


Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

by My_Sweet_Melancholy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Depression, Germerica - Freeform, Heavy Angst, I saw that there wasn't much angst in the Gerame department, Kidnapping, M/M, Or Gerame in the Gerame department, Psychology, Rape/Non-con Elements, So I really want to contribute, Some Fluff, Some Humor, Stockholm Syndrome, gerame - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2019-11-18 07:57:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 41,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18116588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Sweet_Melancholy/pseuds/My_Sweet_Melancholy
Summary: Alfred is a college student, nothing special. He's getting good grades for a good job, he has a decent group of friends and an stubborn, troubled and loving family. A life as mundane as his would turn into something much more precious to him, as he gets kidnapped by a man he never had any form of contact with. In a balance of survival and self-preservation, Alfred has to wriggle his way out of the grasp of a man who's become infatuated with him faster than Romeo with Juliet.Ludwig is a lonely man, with a lonelier past. He doesn't remember what age he started to do this, and he doesn't know when he'll stop either. Something about Alfred is different, the way he breathes, and talks and acts. This only enforces his desire to take what he wants, and he covets like no other man.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Alright. I wrote this a little while ago, each chapter is something that still needs work on it, but honestly, fuck it. I've read through the first chapter so many times that if they do, my eyes will kill themselves. 
> 
> To be honest however, I really want these chapters to be longer. So as this story progresses, they probably are going to get that way. Based on the hits/votes I get, (I usually don't use this platform, but I'd still like to try), I'll try to make a schedule for uploads. 
> 
> So. This first chapter is only the opening one, all the exposition and shit. Yadda yadda yadda. Also, this is after I went on a months-long hiatus in my writing hobby to recover after burning myself out on another fic, so it's needless to say that I am indefinitely rusty. If there are any flaws, be it grammatically or plot-wise, please let me know. Any suggestions would also be highly appreciated. 
> 
> Either way, I love each and every one of you for even taking the time to click on this bitch of a tale. I wouldn't be where I am today without the supporters I've had in the past on other platforms, and I can't say how thankful I am without every person who reads this piece of shit.

 

The carpet rubbing against his body was unpleasant, to say the least. The friction between his clothes and the fabric, and the not so gentle sway of whatever dark, warm place he was in made his already sluggish mind dizzy. The air was so humid, it was comparable to a womb. But this wasn’t pleasant. His mind was barely even functioning, much less remembering anything about his life, his identity, or his current location. His fear about that fact, even, was a very muted sense of panic, like a feeling nestling towards the back of his spine instead of the already nauseated front of his stomach. 

 

The first clear feeling that washed over him was the sensation of hairs raising their way up his back, on his shoulders, then on his neck. It was his saving grace. But that second of clarity was mixed with the steady nausea, hindered, and eventually erased. He only ever felt this bad when he went to a frat party with Mattie, and a gal tried to spike him. His consciousness was ever shifting. His mind settled on the very lax state of being between sleep and awake, and it wouldn’t necessarily be an uncomfortable feeling if he didn’t have all of this nausea. 

 

Images of his tearful father flashed through his mind, packing up the car. Leaving for collage. He  _ promised _ himself that he would keep his act clean, but then he got so many plants to take care of in his apartment, and the assignments kept stacking up and up until it touched the beard of God himself. So, weed was a nice thing to smoke when he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Why so many random things? So many random,  _ random,  _ things. He was usually a little unfocused from time to time, but this was an entirely new plane of existence he was standing on. Or, more like swaying  _ in _ . 

 

Why was he thinking of that? Where even was he? It was so dark, he was wondering if his eyes were opened or closed. He tried to touch his lashes to see their position, but his hands were bound. So were his feet. There was a more recent, clearer fear. Time seemed to shorten, or maybe it previously was being stretched? All Alfred knew was that things were happening. And they were happening without his knowledge, his control, or his consent.  _ Alfred.  _ That was his name. Progress. That woke him up pretty quick. There were spastic snaps of reality and fear sinking into his chest like a knife, until that fear totally consumed him. Why wasn’t he seeing anything? Was he blind? There were so many questions going through his mind and many more quickly made assumptions in an attempt to answer.

 

Why couldn’t he  _ move _ ?

 

Alfred felt the piss welling and his stomach drop. His limbs and the back of his neck started to tingle, deep into the muscle. Sweat was building on his skin. All of this felt familiar to the man, like a horrifying type of deja vu. The gal that tried to spike him. He could care less. Alfred was much more concerned with other pressing issues, but that familiarity was no help to him. Maybe something more helpful would have him the knowledge granted of why he couldn’t see. 

 

_ Or why he couldn’t fucking MOVE. _

 

\--

 

_ “Now I know, this week has been a little boring for all of us. But this is the last lecture I give that however crucial it may be, does still, in fact, bore most to death,” The professor paused. Looked around for a little bit. He continued without another thought. “Yesterday, I taught you all about the behavioral signs of abuse. This time, I’m going to talk to you about the general signs of fear, and generally how they link up to behaviors of a victim who is being abused,” Only some students were attentive. Alfred, surprisingly, being one of them. Ever since high school started, the man had forced himself to study with a work ethic he didn’t know the origin of. _

 

_ But he wasn’t complaining. A goal to be met was going to be met with hard work and honesty, if anyone asked him. He could kick back his feet and be lazy later, when he was making actual money. Not when he was scraping by to purchase some ramen noodles and sprite. Sometimes, he didn’t even have the water to cook those noodles, he had to eat them like they were some crunchy, tasteless, difficult cookie. No cookie should ever be difficult. _

 

_ Damn. Focus.   _

 

_ That sudden change in personality surprised his parents and brother as much as it did himself. It was supposed to be Mattie that was the golden star, the perfect brother. But his passive aggressiveness mixed in with working himself like a dog in elementary and middle school only served to burn him out. Alfred by no means, however, was any better than Matthew, he was just really being a kid when his brother was studying. The timing was wrong, Alfred was sure that his younger brother was smarter than him. And kinder, attracted just the right crowd. But it all got burnt out. And now, even though he might not be as smart or as kind, or even in the right crowd, the man has a spark. A spark to strive for beauty, for intelligence. To help other people for a career.  _

 

_ Instead of thinking about family matters, however, he was typing his notes down like some other students around him.  _

 

_ “Nerves in your abdomen will send signals of nausea, like when one is on the edge of a roller coaster about to drop down a steep hill. It’s also because blood leaves certain places like the abdomen to check on the heart or brain, more critical areas of the body that are essential for survival,” The professors’ soft brown eyes swept over the plethora of students before him. He sighed. _

 

_ It was going to be a long lesson. _

 

\--

 

A sudden burst of light is never welcomed, especially when one is a college student. But, at least Alfred wasn’t blind. That foolish optimism didn’t really stay for long, however, because. Well. He was in a trunk, and there was a man, bulging muscles, blonde hair and pale skin staring down at him with the wrath of God. Staring at him with eyes that were sculpted from ice, so cold that it burned. There wasn’t much time to take in the details of his face, and with all the adrenaline washing itself through Alfred’s veins, he wasn’t sure even if he had the damn time in the first place, if that would be his highest priority. And while he had no connections with the mob and had no reason to get whacked, he was still in a trunk, with a cold man. A dark man, the winter chill making his breath turn into a fog, a veil for his face.

 

This man wasn’t the only thing taking up the view Alfred had from the inside of the trunk, although he was so big it was damn close. There were tall pines, the smell of dirt, leaves rustling against each other and the songs of birds that would have been previously unheard of if the trunk door was left neglected. It was cold, if he was ever shivering before, it would never compared to the amount of how he was shivering now. 

 

_ ‘Do I have clothes on?’  _

 

Right. He does have  _ some _ clothes on, but not as much as he remembered. A tank top and boxers that were enough to show how skinny he had whittled down to in the last year was definitely  _ not  _ enough to stand against the cold. Another shiver, but stronger this time. The dark man with fog on his face had a coat on as well, many layers underneath, his coat zipper was open, but it still wasn't enough to hide the fact that-  _ Jesus, those are some big arms _ . 

 

Still having the coats on, the man seemed to accomplish the task of picking Alfred up from the trunk. Even moving his arms seemed like a difficult task, but the man, that Alfred could see  _ much  _ better now, seemed to fair very fine. Alfred was in such shock, that the thought of even screaming was something alien to him. Now however, he decided that it would be best to fucking  _ shriek _ . Alfred’s terrified scream sounded like a bolt of lighting, sudden and powerful. Immediately after, the younger man with not much strength to begin with, had started to kick and squirm with all he could muster. It wasn’t much in regards to his captors strength, Alfred learned that quickly, but he still needed to try. Having one’s arms and legs tied together in intricate boy-scout knots could also be seen as a hindrance. 

 

The fear that Alfred was feeling in the trunk was absolutely nothing compared to what he was feeling now. Having a foreign entity carry him like it was a casual thing to do, at a foreign place, with a foreign temperature, and the last memory he had was accepting his brother’s party invitation, (which almost ended in him being raped)? This went from an extremely bad situation to an inescapable hell. The mystery of a motive from this icy man definitely did not help whatsoever. Was he going to get murdered? Sold into human trafficking,  _ raped? Tortured?  _

 

The man carrying Alfred didn’t think such a skinny boy like him could produce such a caterwaul, but it seemed he was wrong. A foggy sigh escaped from the captor’s lips, warming the college student’s face, he set Alfred down on the forest floor. No one would hear them for miles, but the hulking male had paranoia, as well as a hate for loud things being constantly droned in his ear. Taking chloroform and a dirty rag out of his pocket, (One that he used for some work on his car a couple days ago), he dipped a small amount onto it, and pressed it over his subject’s mouth. Everything went back into a buzzing quiet that left pressure on the eardrums. 

 

Ludwig looked down upon his prey. Oh, the things he could  _ do  _ to this  hirschkalb. How he could scream in pain, and in fear, and how he himself already had gotten a taste of it. The boy’s delicate cries sent shivers down the man’s back, making him aroused even in the iciest of cold. Oh, how this boy could light up the world!  _ ‘Even in the dead of winter,’  _ Ludwig thought while he was picking his captive up in his arms once again,  _ ‘He can still foment warmth,’  _ Lud chuckled to himself. Already getting so attached? He will be like all the others, experiments who have perished under the circumstances they were brought through, no matter how warm they could make things. 

 

The pines were whispering, the mist was laying low today, making way for his new captive’s grandeur. Everything around the two of them were rattling, shivers of expectation for what's to transpire, other victims’ trauma sinking deep into the bones of the land. The sun never broke through the clouds that day.

  
  


\--

 

_ ‘Lord in heaven, he’s beautiful.’ Ludwig took a moment to stare at the man he targeted, not knowing the full extent of his beauty, while the fog turned into a golden color from the sun, no one else being around. How could something so pretty be seated on something as filthy as a bus stop? ‘We’ll have to change that,’ _

 

_ The wiseman in Ludwig spoke, reminding him that copious amounts of beauty usually meant a shallow personality. He sighed, the loud noise being locked in the safe confines of his car. Although it wasn’t the coldest in southern California in it’s winter months, wearing a t-shirt, especially in the early morning as well, could easily make someone catch a bad cold. Ludwig sometimes rode on the bus up home as well, and none of those things were heated. No worries, this man would be taken to a much warmer place soon, and he’ll never have to take a damn bus again. Ludwig smiled at that thought, having his little pets be happy and free looking.  _

 

_ As far as Ludwig knew, Alfred, his name was, just got out of a party that lasted all night, and now was taking the bus home. It was a dumb move, but by how obviously drunk he was, not wearing a jacket now made sense. He was the only one to board the bus, and after a couple of seconds which seemed like minutes, Ludwig started to follow it.  _

 

_ Alfred got out of the bus unscathed, and was opening the door to his apartment complex, where he vanished behind tinted windows and up a flight of stairs. ‘This is going to be an easy capture,’ Ludwig thought to himself.  _

 

_ He was right, of course. Alfred even trustingly left the door unlocked, so all it took for the man to be quietly put in Ludwig’s trunk was a cloth and some chloroform. Not too much, or it could kill him since he was already very drunk in the first place. A pity, Ludwig decided. A little struggle would have been fun, but it was also too early to be awake enough for such an event.  _

 

_ Ludwig undressed his captive down to his underwear and left the tank top on. It was for his own amusement more than any sort of utility to his plans. And he didn’t regret it either, Alfred could have been mistaken for just a boy, the thin thighs and small amount of muscles definitely helped Ludwig’s case. The only indicators of age was the patch of chest hair peeking up from under the tank top, and the ghostly traces of a growing beard.  _

 

_ Having time, Ludwig looked around Alfred’s studio apartment. There were plants everywhere, flowers, succulents, herbs. The home was more of a greenhouse with a bunch of books in it, if Ludwig were to be honest. _

 

_ Papers, seemingly important ones, were strewn across the floor as if they weren’t. That was understandable, though, Alfred was in college, and from past tests that were also joined to the floor, the man was doing very well for himself. Whatever worked. The kitchen was tiny, the pantry barely had any food in it, the same could be said for the fridge. It would be an easy explanation as to why Alfred over here was so skinny, and the section of the room overall was unremarkable and bland if not for the herbs placed here and there on the counters. _

 

_ Being skinny also meant being easy to pick up. Ludwig erased his judgments of the home from his mind, and set himself with the tasks he wanted to preform. With no one up yet, only the birds chirping at such an hour, Ludwig and his new toy vanished into thin air.  _


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooooookay. This is a really boring one. I tried to aim for a casual feel, for Ludwig to act like he didn't just abduct another victim. But it just comes off as really boring. A better chapter will be posted soon, my dears, I promise. <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, boring. Just the depiction of a peaceful man making a life in the middle of nowhere, a lot of people do that. And I know you just had to sit though one shitty chapter, but if you thought that was bad, honey, you got a big storm comin'.

Ludwig admired his progress, something he didn’t let himself indulge in too often. Everything was in a perfect order, even he was happy while he had to overcome the hurdle of juggling this boy, Alfred, and opening the door to his mudroom. When he finally did accomplish the task, he remembered to rub his boots on the mat, and slip them off, kicking them to the side. They could be organized and put in their proper place when he didn’t have one hundred pounds of golden hair and warmth in his arms. Walking without trouble to the bed where he usually kept his experiments, he set his hirschkalb down and handcuffed him to the post of the bed. It would be enough, for now. 

 

Now, what to do. There was  _ much  _ to do, actually. Ludwig set out to fix the position of his boots, and wiped up whatever snow was left behind. There was a lot, but Ludwig was a stubborn man. He sorted the darks and lights of his dirty laundry, and then put the lights in first. Absentmindedly, he twist a ring on his finger that was no longer there, before he snapped out of his daze and went to the kitchen. 

 

Setting a pot of water on the stove, Ludwig twisted the knob, waited for a couple of clicks, and saw as the fire appeared, orange and blue. He took a watering can and gave life to the plants on his windowsill. There were many, most flowers, all poisonous. He looked at his lily of the valley fondly, for he was remembering all the times he had his experiments seize, or have their throats and lips swell to the point of little breathing. The flowers weren't in season yet, but that just meant something to anticipate. He stroked the leaves with gentle fingers before he watered the rest, and moved on. 

 

Dishes from last night’s hearty dinner were still waiting to be washed, bits of meat and vegetable intermixed still on his plate. He could still practically taste the delicious food, and it was a rare occurrence where there was too much for him, a big sign that he’d have to go on many jogs, and soon. The water was only slightly steaming for now, so he would have time. The man always set the sink on it’s highest heat, a scalding temperature that put pain into Ludwig’s skin, cleansing and bathing with agony. It took a few minutes to get to that point, however. And being the time saver that he is, Ludwig just decided to get the dishes over with while the pot water was still warming up.

 

The water was steaming now, fogging up the window near it. The ice on the window, intricate patterns more beautiful to Ludwig than any snowflake, was melting due to the warmth of the home. It made him sad, just a little bit. But there was always enough cold to go around, at least for the coming months. All he had to do was finish his laundry, do his dishes, and make himself some food, and then he could step outside into the winter chill that he was always craving. The man ran a hand through his unkempt hair, making the mop on his head even messier. Hmm. After he ate he would have to shower, it’s a part of his routine that was always left forgotten, he was so busy. Busy busy busy, always. But this forgetfulness has made his hair greasy and his musk deeply apparent to his own nose. 

 

The water was boiling now, and he was planning to make something simple for himself, and for the little man sleeping in the corner of his room. Dumping the pasta in, he set the timer on his stove and left his mind for wandering thoughts until the beep would bring him back again. 

 

\--

_ He had taken many people, from all ranges and walks of life. And still, he did not yet know himself the reason for why he made them disappear from their own lives, and forced them to concur with his own. They were always weak, they always broke, and something in them stopped to the point where they never woke up again. _

 

_ It’s not like he was empty on the inside. He cried often, felt twisting and pulling in his heart and in his stomach, he felt raw emotion and loneliness when they weren’t there to keep his mind occupied. There was a small, ancient part of him that felt disgusted, that was screaming “NO, NO, NO,” In father’s voice, of course. He asked himself why all the time, but he still took people. This blond boy was just another one of them, but his freckles, and his blue, blue eyes. Up close, tan lines from his glasses could be seen. Ludwig took the glasses with him when he picked the boy up, he didn’t know how bad his vision was, and he didn’t want Alfred’s stay to be too terrible. _

 

_ The screaming would have to be punished, but that could be saved for later as well.  _

 

_ \-- _

 

Exactly as planned, the beep snapped Ludwig out of his thoughts and drove him to busily find the strainer while the noodles kept boiling. Taking some mitts and removing the pot from the stove, Ludwig turned it off. Then, he put the pasta in the strainer, and prepared the dish the rest of the way. It smelt nice this time. Ludwig wasn’t the best at cooking, but what he made was edible, so it would have to do. This time was better though, the sauce was sweet and the spices were, in the name, spicy. It was perfect, and he made sure to save some for when Alfred woke up.

 

Alfred. What an old name for such a young, handsome man. But still, somehow, in the days that Ludwig had been studying this boy, (practically), he could not find Alfred anything but fitting. The German saw the light in him, the joy, his willingness and his freedom. He was a dream wrapped in skin and hair and blue, blue eyes. For the most part, Alfred’s existence was a present, just for Ludwig. Everything about him was golden and happy, and as soon as he saw Alfred, an evil selfish creature manifested itself and needed that boy to be his own.

 

Ludwig found himself lost in thought and chewing on food he didn’t even register the taste of. He was looking at Alfred. Still asleep, relaxed and peaceful. It was like watching something glow, like the steady flame of a warm candle. Even worse, when Alfred was awake, from afar Ludwig could see how the sun blessed his features with beauty, like they were two beings cut from the same cloth.

 

His smile was something else entirely as well. A concentrated beacon of light, stinging his eyes and drawing Ludwig closer and closer. This was the most he’d ever been infatuated with… a guest.

 

The realization sent a strong shiver down Ludwig’s spine. He had never been so attracted or warmed, or hell, even aroused. There was a greed in him that wanted to consume Alfred’s light like all other guests, but there was that small, moral voice. It was scared, so Ludwig was scared. And before the man could even look away from Alfred’s beauty, his eyes began to groggily open.

 

Ludwig’s heart raced, and it sank back down upon the realization that he was only squirming. Chloroform does a lot more damage.

 

It took so much effort for Ludwig to drag his eyes away from this new guest, but he managed. He ate the rest of his dish and cleaned the plate in a lackadaisical fashion. He drudged his feet down the hall and opened the door to his room, where he undressed down to his skin and left the clothes on the floor. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

There was only one reason for this man’s sudden laziness and fatigue. He was bewitched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I can say is that I am remorseful and sorry for writing that monstrosity of a chapter, my dears. And I feel even worse if you powered through in order to get to the end notes of this chapter, to the people that have, I can't apologize enough. Chapter three will be a little while, because it will be longer, and I want to make sure that it's absolutely polished and golden for all my little hirschkalbs. <3


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This summary is going to be short and sweet: We have amongst the first actual interactions between Ludwig and Alfred. Ludwig makes Alfred some nice spaghetti, and we have some almost sexual interactions. Almost.

Again, it was pitch black when Alfred woke up. But he could move his eyes without restraint, and he was more free to move around, even if he hadn’t done so yet. His fingers and limbs felt like million pound weights, his head was comfortable in the pillow supplied to him. The scent of the covers, the blanket, the room. It wasn’t his earthy, plant scent. It was colder, more like dead wood and running electric heater. 

 

But it didn’t bother him. Alfred already knew what he experienced prior to being knocked out was no dream or nightmare, but he didn’t need to lose his mind right now. That man was nowhere near him, and formulating a plan while still under intense effects of chloroform wasn’t going to help either. So, it was the waiting game. 

 

Small hints of moonlight shone through the room, Alfred could see them as his eyes got adjusted to the space. He was in the corner, on a bed much bigger than he could ever afford in his dorm. To the right of him, just out of his reach, was a night table and a lamp. The floor was level, until it was met with a step into the living room of this place, apparently. There was a couch, a fireplace, a couple paintings, a spacey kitchen. To Alfred, it was homey, but it wasn’t  _ home _ . And that, in the very back of his mind, the part that was as clear as cold water, was extremely disturbed by this fact. But layers upon layers of sluggishness and grogginess snuffed it out pretty quick. 

 

He couldn’t remember much, and that was due to a mix of chloroform and alcohol. Alfred didn’t even know how he survived that combination, but unluckily, he did indeed. 

 

_ That man _ . That man with the shadows making his face sunken and deep, menacing in every sense of the word. Alfred tried for the life of him to remember his captors face, but it was no use. Even through his haze, Alfred knew that the shadows on that man’s face was enough to cover it, without his mind playing tricks on him.

 

There were very general details that he remembered, however. His hair was thick and extremely blonde, blonder that anything Alfred had ever seen while still being in the complete realm of golden hair. The man had strong cheekbones and an even stronger jaw, he couldn’t remember if he had a beard or not. His neck was thick, and Alfred could have smelled his  _ musk _ from a mile away. And it wasn’t a good manly musk either, his musk meant that he had been working on something for days and hadn’t showered in the same time frame. Neither truth was good.

 

Everything about this shadow man was rushing back. Alfred would need to get a better look at his face if he ever had a hope of explaining him to the police. The sun was replacing moonlight, inches by inches. Silver was turning into blue, and more detail of the room was being shown to Alfred’s tired eyes. If only he could keep them open, or process what these details were and if they were of any importance. Or even, if he could stay awake.

  
  


\---

 

Alfred woke up again, to the sound of nothing. And again, he opened his eyes, only to be met with a man in the kitchen. Needless to say, this deeply alarmed Alfred, because even though his mind was now throwing off the effects of any substance he was under, his  _ captor  _ was in the same room as him. Even from a comfortably far distance, the details of this man’s face were now clear to him. Blue eyes, colder than any winter night, looked up from whatever he was cooking in the kitchen and stared straight back at the student. 

 

The eyes went down again, this man seemed to ignore him for the time being. But Alfred couldn’t help his heart, beating so fastly, or how sweat seemed to magically appear in a sheen covering his whole body. Almost every muscle in his body was tense, he couldn’t remember how to breathe.

 

It took many moments before Alfred saw a change, any change. It was in this man’s demeanor, it went from coldly serious to warm, inviting. Unsteady. “Hallo,” He spoke. His accent was thick, was that… German? Alfred couldn’t exactly say, he only spoke a word. “Don’t be afraid, I won’t do anything to you right now, you don’t have to worry,” Definitely German. And even though this man’s aura had shifted, his smile was one of the smallest and most nondescript Alfred had ever seen. The student couldn’t be sure of anything right now. And, ‘ _ oh God, oh Jesus,’ _ he said that he wouldn’t do things  _ right now _ , which meant those things… The fear on his face must have shown. This man tisked before he put his attention back on the food he was preparing, finished it up in a matter of a few seconds, and then wiped off his hands. This thick, scary man was walking towards him now. ‘ _ Oh Jesus, oh no.’ _

 

The man's smile was still there, small and meaningless. There was interest in his eyes, amusement, a twisted sense of joy,  _ something _ in there, maybe. It was better than nothing. Why did he come over here, to gloat, maybe? To kill him? God, this reminded him of all the case files he read as a kid, Charles Manson and his Family, Albert Fish, Gein and Dahmer. The thought of his body being so defiled and mutilated in any way made Alfred sick, it was a temple he had been up keeping for twenty something years now. To see, in cases that he had studied, how these sick individuals would take a body and turn it into their version of an art piece, how easy defiling some poor, unlucky individual had come to them, like it was their very first nature. Come to think of it, it was. 

 

There was a market on the media of serial killers, of sick people that should have been locked away, killed and forgotten about. When he was a boy, Alfred had read Silence of the Lambs and Zodiac and Helter Skelter. Something enraptured him, making him question the why instead of the what, leading to tearful nights thinking that had these people been properly been loved and cared for as children, this would have never happened.

 

Another shiver went down his spine to think that he, Alfred Fitzgerald Jones, was another unlucky individual, racked up in the army of victims caught in a huge spiders web. The man had been looking at him for moments now. He didn’t know what do do with that information except to stare back. Eventually he crouched down beside Alfred, and a nice scent, (Better than the one he smelt off of the man last time), one of cologne and warmness rushed in his nose and invaded his senses. He smelt like a man, and he looked like one as well. 

 

Did he have the soul of one?

 

The man’s arm shifted, his hand went toward the student’s face, and Alfred was keenly aware of it. He flinched,  _ hard _ , when the apple of his cheek was brushed by a wide, calloused thumb, and when the rest of the hand decided to practically cover half of his face. Any part of him that was able to was shaking like an engine. The other hand went to his face, but this time he could only feel knuckles, hard and used to years of wear and tear, brush against his soft temple. Alfred was a rabbit about to get his neck snapped, he was at least shaking like one. He noticed, with a cold stone in his gut, that the man’s smile fell away, and the emotion in his eyes changed into something of intense focus and clarity. Nothing warm about it, except for maybe the way this dude seemed so intrigued. 

 

His hands were warm,  _ God _ , were they warm. It wasn’t helping, it wasn’t comforting Alfred. It was making him feel like he couldn’t breathe, like he was trapped in a cage, if he weren’t already. This man’s thick, strong fingers could easily as well substitute for bars of steel, so it didn’t help too much. 

 

Alfred tried to say something, to speak. But the only thing that came out were rasps of a tiny voice failing to gain its footing. The man’s smile came back, but this time it was definitely out of amusement. The victim only felt mocked, but too scared to actually be angry. 

 

“Are you hungry, hirschkalb?” In fact, Alfred  _ was _ hungry. It’s not like his stomach growled perfectly when the man asked that question, he’d been starving for hours. Sadly, he knew what that felt like in college, but it never got any more pleasant. He nodded his head. Alfred would need any amount of strength he could get, and that was mainly through a good meal, which he hadn’t had in… weeks, months? A long time. So with that, Alfred gave a slight, slow nod. It was barely even a movement of his head, but the man still noticed it. Alfred  _ still _ couldn’t get over how this man’s focused eyes were like spotlights on a stage, resting on him and only him. It was unnerving.

 

As soon as the hands came, they went. That applied to the man as well. The man, the man, the man. There needs to be a name to that strong face, surely. But Alfred couldn’t, for the life of him, pipe up. He was still shaking as bad as a mouse. He watched the man go to the kitchen, and then watch him back in return. He wanted to turn his eyes away, but he couldn’t. Not like there was a lot of space for Alfred to turn anyways, but still. His spotlight eyes raked up and down his body, and then calmly left the kitchen to go to the hallway to Alfred’s left. 

 

_ ‘Oh my God, oh my God, Oh my God, he’s gonna kill me,’ _ The mantra was repeated in Alfred’s head. He was seconds away to a hyperventilating panic attack then the man came out with a thick blanket, and threw it flatly over his shaking body. It was warm in the house, but still cold to Alfred, only dressed in old boxers and a tank top. But that was only half the reason the man was shaking.  _ ‘That was kind of anticlimactic,’ _

 

The man quickly went back to work to make the rest of the food, and the process was done in minutes. Alfred wishes he could go back to sleep, in a warm room with a comfortable, thick blanket. But he was in that alien room with a man that  _ took  _ him, common sense and the instinct to survive wasn’t going to let him sleep any time soon. 

 

He wasn’t shaking as much now. The man put the food on two plates, one for Alfred and another for himself. Spaghetti, and it smelled delicious. He hadn’t had that dish in months, the only time he did is when his parents treated him to dinner for a good grade on an exam. But it doesn’t exactly matter now that he got an A. 

 

The lamp on the nightstand next to him was gently put on the floor by the man, the the spaghetti to its place, while the small table was slowly pulled more toward Alfred. The man then left once more, but this time he was quicker. He produced rope and a small, shiny silver thing. Without his glasses, (His parents got him new ones when he aced that exam as well), everything was just a tad blurry. He wasn’t as blind as everyone thought he was but still. He needed glasses. 

 

He tried to squint, but that didn’t work too much. “Keys,” The German said. “For the handcuffs, hirschkalb.” Oh. Alfred felt a blush come up. It wasn’t the cute, bashful schoolgirl blush. All the anxiety he was feeling over the continuous hours he was conscious got to him, paired with the fact that he was being talked to by a man he doesn’t know for shit, well. Two plus two equals four. There was a quiet, deep chuckle coming from the man. 

 

Alfred felt his feet be grabbed by the man slowly and gingerly, but ti nothing to soothe him. His heart rate spiked even more, he could feel the pulse in his throat and nausea go down to his navel. He could hear the man softly cooing at him, making promises that he wouldn’t harm Alfred right now. The right now made his fear even worse, because there was a violent, dark, glowing promise under the one Alfred heard. It promised fields of pain and mental hell, the equivalent of a hateful fire, only existing for spite. 

 

He hadn’t noticed, through all the fear he was feeling, that his legs were tied. The knots were so intricately placed and made that Alfred couldn’t follow a path of rope through the tangle out to the other side. This man had practice, that was for sure. 

 

Alfred’s eyes followed the man’s every movement. Lightly weighted tears slipped from his eyes, as the man knelt down beside the small table with the food on it, beside  _ him.  _ There it was again, the focus in this man’s eyes. And there weren’t two hand cupping his face, but there was one wiping his tears away. “When I release your hands, dear, your adorable hands, you better not do anything but eat with them,” The man paused, and took his free hand to show a scar on his neck. It was long, jagged, so deep and old that it turned white, but still angry looking. “I have many scars from those who have tried to leave me,” He let his hand down and put all his focus back on Alfred. “That person in particular got to a knife and tried to kill me. It took half my strength to snap their neck, it was such a pity, they were so beautiful,”

 

“So beautiful, Alfred. You’re beautiful too, you glow, you radiate sunshine. Don’t make me end such a blessing because of a stupid decision. I’ve never given this warning before, but I’ll give it to you, dear, schatz,” Alfred was so numb that he couldn’t even breathe, and at the same time so filled with fear that he couldn’t stop looking at the man. He was going to release his hands from the cuffs, inching slowly and full of care, when he froze, and a quiet, “Oh dear, wait,” Left his lips. 

 

The man reached to the back of himself, getting something out of his pocket.  _ ‘Oh thank God,’  _ Alfred thought, they were his glasses. Carefully, they were slid past his temples and he felt that familiar wire hit the bridge of his nose comfortably. The weight of the glasses on his face gave him a slight solace. With a hastened step now, the man uncuffed Alfred.

 

He immediately rubbed his wrists, but Alfred always kept his eyes locked with the man’s when he reached for the fork beside the plate. It was a slow process, even though his stomach was screaming at him to just eat the fucking food already. Eventually, he wrapped enough food around his fork for it to be a bite, and he brought it to his mouth, and ate. It was one of the best things he had ever tasted in his entire life, or so it seemed that way. It wasn’t nearly enough to actually quell all of Alfred’s fears and anxieties in the situation, but it was still something damn fine to eat. 

 

Eventually however, Alfred got comfortable enough to even have the thought of summoning the courage to speak a few words. So far, in this whole entire situation, he’s only screamed. And a couple bites after that, with the man still focusing on him with eyes filled with amazement and intrigue, he decided that, yes, he was going to ask the man a few questions. 

 

“Wh-” Bad attempt. His voice practically wasn’t even there, it reminded him when he was in the thick of his puberty, and sometimes he was so nervous that there wasn’t any voice left in his pipes. He recounted a memory, a flash of a thought went through his mind, of when he tried to talk to one of his first long term girlfriends. Maerie. A beautiful girl with a beautiful mind, he was still friends with her to this day. What he would give to kiss her cheek and tell he that all he ever loved was her. 

 

That feeble attempt to speak was all it took for the man to lean in closer, and focus his eyes in even more.  _ ‘God,’  _ Alfred thought comically,  _ ‘Personal bubble, man,’ _ He didn’t dare chuckle at anything he thought though, he had things to do and a possibly dangerous person to appease. “What’s your name?” He saw the man smile,  _ with teeth _ . They weren’t perfectly white or straight, but Alfred would have thought his smile as beautiful if they were friends under different circumstances, but that thought hadn’t even crossed the student’s mind. All he saw it as was scary, on a deep, instinctual level. It reminded Alfred of a Chimpanzee’s fear grimace, but all it really was, was an attractive man’s bemusement.

 

“He speaks,” If this man’s smile could grow any wider, it did. He tilted his head to the side and spoke, “Ludwig, my boy,” The realization of Ludwig’s German accent washed over Alfred once again when the u-sound was stressed on, and when the ‘w’ was pronounced like a ‘v’. It racked up shivers on his spine. A thought raced through his mind,  _ ‘I am not your boy,’ _ . It was defiant and filled with the first ounce of actual anger and discomfort he had actually felt in this whole ordeal. He wanted more than anything in the world to say it, but Alfred didn’t know how erratic Ludwig’s behavior was yet. Better safe than sorry.

 

Ludwig read his annoyed face though, “I’m sorry if I offended you. All the people I bring over still need time to adjust, I apologize.” At least he was courteous. In the reoccurring fear that his voice would fail him, Alfred kept silent and gave a nod as a sign of forgiveness. Ludwig’s smile was still there. 

 

Alfred kept eating, and Ludwig stayed, crouched and looking up to the student with complete adoration. Ludwig was one to be honest, to admit things when they needed to be said. But it was hard, even in his mind, to admit that he was smitten with this new guest. Not in a conventional way, Ludwig didn’t want to get married to this man, to have adopted children or to grow old together. The man wanted to fuck his little hirschkalb senseless on the bed, and make him feel so much pleasure that he would scream and cry and beg for more. He’s done that before to other guests, but never with such a will to do it, especially so early into them being in Ludwig’s home.

 

But Alfred would probably see that another way, Ludwig realized. He’d probably not want it, see that as punishment or something that God used to smite him. The boy hadn’t even grown to like him yet, or know anything about him but his name. Patience is a virtue, Ludwig knew that, but it was like having a treat dangled in front of his face, and being told not to take it for any reason. It was a parent saying you couldn’t do something just because, Ludwig hated it.

 

But love came from patience. Alfred would probably see anything sexual as a punishment, which was still something the student needed for screaming. Ludwig decided that that was the best route to go, it would satisfy the man’s needs, and make sure the boy stayed in line. The true struggle was saying that Alfred would be punished outright, or if he should leave the boy guessing. Alfred was eating the last of his meal, and when he was done, Ludwig took the plate to the sink and when he came back, pushed the nightstand back to its original place.

 

Wing it.

 

Ludwig took to putting a hand of Alfred’s face again, cupping his cheek and jaw gingerly. Ludwig noticed how Alfred tensed, how his shoulders raised in provocation. The man also noticed how it pained his heart to know such distrust came from him, and his touch. This punishment needed to be put through. So, leaning in slowly, Ludwig pecked a kiss on hirschkalb’s other exposed cheek. Somehow, it made Ludwig even more aroused. Going near this boy made him feel like he was flying into the sun, there was trepidation and nervousness, and a long lost eagerness to please stuck down in Ludwig’s stomach. There were some emotions that he hadn’t felt in such a long time, the scent behind Alfred’s ear, the scent of his hair. It almost couldn’t be described by any other smell, it was warm, it reminded Ludwig of hard work on a hot summer’s day, nothing refreshing or joyous about it. It was the type of scent that reminded him of a heat daze, or something as empty as a mirage.

 

There was something inside of Ludwig that didn’t care what Alfred felt on certain matters, there was something inside of the man that was going to have it’s way. It was self-fulfilling prophecy at this point, the nervousness wasn’t something Ludwig really expected, but this instinct was. The need to consume was home to Ludwig, the attractiveness of something innocent and fragile and destined to be corrupted was nothing but attractive to the man. And he wasn’t thinking about children, he was talking about the type of person who had the entire world in their hands, who held potential and sweetness and everything good, and it just made Ludwig want to smack it out of their hands. 

 

He thought that Alfred was a little bit of this and a little bit of that. He had enough drive and focus to power the world, he gathered that fact easily from watching him for weeks. But he was still bred and raised in a good home, untouched by the worst the universe had to offer. And this is what the universe did in repentance for it’s sin, giving Alfred to Ludwig, like a gift with bows of sunshine. 

 

There were hands, huge and mighty, slithering from Alfred’s face and the space of bed beside him, onto his body. There was one on his shoulder moving towards the back of his neck, and the other one was resting on his hip. In all this time, Ludwig didn’t kiss him again.

 

Until he did, seconds later. This time, instead of his cheekbone, it was in the middle region, going nearer his mouth. His lips were like a rough sandpaper, they were so chapped that the wrinkles on his lips were so deep that they looked like ravines. Alfred  _ hated _ chapped lips, lucky him that they were all over his face now. The hands were momentarily stationary until they would move again, it was like Ludwig couldn’t focus on anything else but Alfred’s face, and that made him uncomfortable as hell. The hand behind his neck clenched with a strength unknown to Alfred, the hand’s movement didn’t even seem to have an effect on the man’s forearm or bicep, it looked like an isolated move. Imagine what he could with his whole arm. 

 

There was a huge shift. 

 

Ludwig went from crouching at the side of Alfred to being on top of him, and that was never really a good sign when you clearly didn’t condone being  _ kissed on the cheek _ . And time seemed all too slow when the hand on his hip traveled down to his crotch, and the one stationed at the back of his neck went down to feel for a nipple under his tank top. The hand on his dick squeezed and rubbed, but Alfred was completely flaccid. 

 

This was too much, everything was happening too quick when Alfred barely even got a grasp on what was happening in the first place. There was something low and cold in his stomach, and something in his throat that he couldn’t swallow down. Wetness fell from his eyes, maybe for the first time he got there, reality took its damn sweet time to sink in.

 

Alfred knew that Ludwig wouldn’t stop until one of them came, but it would probably be the latter individual. He tried to picture the few people he had sexually cherished in his life, all the fantasies he had tucked away for safekeeping. He needed this to be over and done with. 

 

But he couldn’t take this, he  _ couldn’t _ . He couldn’t run, couldn’t plead, couldn’t breathe. It seemed to be a small problem at first, but he inhaled more than he exhaled, and eventually the student felt lightheaded and shaky even though he was fully laying down. The panic surging through his mind was something he knew well, but it was still a beast he had yet to conquer before he was stuck in this situation. Being crushed under a horny captor was no help either.

 

The tears falling from his eyes were uncontrollable now, and it took only a few seconds more for the man on top of him to actually acknowledge his state of emergency. Suddenly, the giant weight on his body lifted, but Alfred’s panic attack didn’t ease up. Those seemingly affectionate hands were on Alfred’s face again, and it did nothing. In Ludwig’s eyes, the boy didn’t seem to know where he was or what he was dealing with. 

 

Two sets of eyes stared at each other, Ludwig's was full of worry and Alfred’s was full of tears. The last thing Alfred saw were those eyes -not yet decided in his mind, and would not be decided for a while yet if they were beautiful or terrifying- looking at him. Like a worried mother. 

 

He knew he needed to punish the boy, but this seemed like punishment enough. Ludwig was no stranger to this… this. But he didn’t even know this boy’s individual needs yet, if Alfred wanted someone near him or no one at all.

 

Before he could make a decision to leave or stay, Ludwig noticed that his hirschkalb was out cold. The man sighed and stood. He threw some blankets over Alfred as to make sure he didn’t get cold, started on the dishes. This boy surely slept. 

 

The man remembered to recuff Alfred to the bedpost, tight and secure, and then take a lazy hand to dismantle the knot he tied on Alfred's feet. Grabbing a book, Ludwig went to Alfred’s side of the bed, standing there momentarily before making up his mind to squeeze in right beside the boy, laying down and protecting him. For a second, he hissed. His penis was sensitive from not being properly satisfied, but he would get over it. There was much worse he was put through before, being blue balled was nothing. 

 

Keeping the bedside lamp on, Ludwig read. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. So off the bat, I see some flaws in my story, but I'm doing my best to work on them right now. The first one is character development, the biggest thing from author to reader is how much the reader can love and attach themselves to a character. So, chapter four will be about that, by the way. Either way, my dears, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Most chapters will be this length, so there's more to enjoy. (Most of it is going to be incoherent rambling, however. I apologize. <3)


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is going to just be some rest, relaxation and some character development. I actually needed to split this chapter into two parts, it was getting to be much too long. So expect a lot of boring shit in this, I am sorry. As much as you need to see what light the characters in this fic are set in, I needed to actually map out what light that was. 
> 
> <3

Ludwig found that he couldn’t put that great of a dent into the book he was reading, he was worrying about his hirschkalb a little too much for that. It was only a couple of hours of waiting, but that meant that midnight would soon be upon them both. Ludwig was worried, Alfred was sleeping too much. 

 

Not too long after his initial worry, however, his hirschkalb started to stir in his rest. Ludwig hated this guilty feeling in his gut, it was supposed to be punishment, but not torture. Those two things were extremely different, the man had the experience to know that with certainty.

 

It took a moment for Ludwig to actually realize that Alfred was staring at him, and it came as a slight surprise to the man. He finally reached over Alfred to put his book on the nightstand, and Ludwig once again noticed how the kid justifiably tensed at his presence. So, the man made it his short mission to make the interaction as brief as possible. After he settled, Ludwig’s eyes met Alfred’s again, his mouth opening for words. For a couple seconds, nothing really came out. “I am sorry for earlier. That was… too much, too early. You still need to figure everything out on your own before we can interact like that,” 

 

_ ‘You fucking think?’  _ Alfred’s mind was enraged and fearful at the same time. He felt like trying to lunge at the man and recoiling. And again, Ludwig must have read his face, the man’s guilty expression only worsening. Alfred tightened his jaw and looked away, he wasn’t going to cry again, but he couldn’t look at the dude who almost… did  _ things _ to him. “What were you gonna do?” He hissed out of clenched teeth. It probably wasn’t the best idea to have that tone of voice with his captor, but he was too angry to care.

 

The man’s face only seemed to soften. If Alfred could use his hands and poke Ludwig’s face, it would sink in as if it were dough.  _ ‘No more nightmarish thoughts, please,’ _ So. Anger, when justified at least, was okay to run by this… Ludwig person.

 

“I was only going to do just enough to please you and please me. Nothing all the way. At the minimum, grinding, and at the maximum, I’d put my mouth on you,” Alfred was never more disgusted by someone describing a blowjob. A shudder went through the student, as cold and unforgiving as the eyes staring at him.

 

“Why?” Alfred’s voice wasn’t so strong anymore, his jaw wasn’t so tensed. He was scared for the answer, scared that there was no reason and the only reason Ludwig didn’t plunder and take was because he couldn’t do it as sexily when his partner was passed out. The man in front of him only looked guiltier and darker than before, like opening up all the boxed in desire that was present before he passed out. Pandora’s Box, a myth that seemed to be true in the moment, every curse in the world seeming to fly out and take a bite at Alfred. 

 

“Because you needed punishment. For screaming, I mean. But panic attacks, they’re bad enough, so punishment on top of punishment doesn’t make sense,” Ludwig took a moment, inhaled very deeply, quietly. There was nothing more delicious in the world right now than Alfred, he could confirm that by the short time he’s had with him in very close proximity. But he couldn’t do anything right now, trust needed to be built. Respect and fear. “I hope you’ll stay in line after this, Schatz. We both will not benefit from rebellion,” Alfred saw Ludwig, his eyes, usually as bright as searchlights, were dark and bottomless. His eyes were like pits with no beginning and no ending, the boy couldn’t be any more terrified. 

 

Ludwig’s face lightened up, a smile was in the works of forming. The man reached a hand out to Alfred’s face, stroking it gently. If everything else failed, Alfred could still count on the fact that this man was all hands. He was very,  _ very _ inclined to the sensation of touch, the student could already easily tell.

 

The hands on his face were nothing but strong and huge. The fingers attached to the wide palm were thick and full of muscle, the pads of the fingertips worn down from work and use and life. They were the type of hands that could squeeze someone blue and snap the life out of them afterwards, without a breath of exhaustion. Their strength meant terror and love. 

 

Rebellion was something Alfred had forgotten, something wrapped up very tightly under years of obedience. Summoning courage was hard to do for him now when doing something that he wasn’t supposed to, and to weigh in the fact that his punishment would be something much more dire. No longer were the days where he’d get a slap on the wrist and a couple weeks of having no cell phone, this was his life, and his death too. 

 

Supposed to do. What was he supposed to do? Ludwig was looking at Alfred with calm eyes, full of intelligence. Ludwig was smart and strong. Was Alfred supposed to indulge in the man’s rules, or the rules of everyone else? The law, telling him to run at the nearest chance he can get, because there might not be many more? Or to play the same game of chess, where he’s kept and poked at with a long stick until he gets boring?

 

A couple of days. A couple of weeks. Time is a joke, but Alfred needed it. With the rising of the sun and the setting of the moon, he needed plans stored in the best place: The space inside his skull. It’s not like Ludwig could crack it open and see what he was up to, but he could crack it open and kill him. Caution was Alfred’s true and only friend. 

 

“What’s the time?” Alfred asked. It was dark out, but that didn’t give specifics. Those blue eyes focused on him, lonely and sharp, a knife all alone. If he was too sloppy, the boy could get cut. Just like a clumsy child. He felt as helpless as one at the moment. 

 

“Why do you need to know?” His voice was understandably deep, the man was huge and menacing, no other voice would fit for Ludwig. Alfred didn’t know what was more powerful, his hands or his voice. There was a big part of him that didn’t want to ever test those dark waters. 

 

“Curious,” It was really all Alfred could say. His throat wasn’t exactly dry, but his voice was still weak and choked up from nervousness. The hand on his face, busying itself with stroking his cheek with the thumb-As that affectionate emotion started to make itself a nightly rite-Moved down to cup the jaw and cover the neck. Touching his guests this much and this early was a rare thing, but so was Alfred. He was a beautiful, rare thing. Ludwig knew that he needed to keep Alfred a little longer than most, treat his boy a little softer. But the idea of forever scared him deep, down into his core, but that’s what his hirschkalb promised: Forever and ever, they’d be beside each other, even when their bodies were in the ground and nothing but eaten away fragments of marrow and bone.

 

“I’m not going to do anything you’d hate,” Ludwig stated as a precaution. He didn’t need another panic attack to try to calm down, all in the span of a couple of hours. That definitely wouldn’t be healthy for Alfred. Ludwig snaked his other arm under Alfred’s back, so effectively, the student could be cuddled by his captor. He’d expect it to be more uncomfortable, a bulging arm as hard as steel slithering its way under his back and resting there, but Alfred didn’t care in the first place, and it  _ was  _ comfier than he expected. What he did care about was that Ludwig was  _ near  _ him, and that wasn’t too nice at the moment. 

 

The man sighed deeply through his nose. Alfred could see him, but not his eyes. Alfred could see most of the top of his head, which was gifted with thick light hair, strong brows, and an even stronger nose. It wasn’t ugly, it was strong. Everything about this man was, and the student hated that. It would make escaping all the more difficult. His heart felt like it was getting queasy at the very thought of what situation he was in.

 

“Curiosity is a bad thing in this house. It gets you worse than nowhere, and it gets me back to square one. The time is 1:04. It’s late… early?” Alfred could feel the bombinating voice in his chest, it felt like he was a cave and Ludwig were the strong echos. His actions would lead to nowhere except for the place that he started. It scared him how easily Ludwig implied Alfred’s death, he was called beautiful and flattering, but all of that was nothing if he didn’t hold any real value to the man that held his life in his hands. It was like punching through golden foil.

 

Alfred nodded. He already knew that he was very expressive, and he knew as well that Ludwig could easily be able to see his fearful face if all he did was look up. He worked on relaxing, or at the very least, trying to. Ludwig went back to sleep after the conversation, not giving any type of courtesy or goodnight. Alfred followed suit. 

 

\--

 

_ Ludwig’s dreams were as rare as his happy days. And out of that small few, most of them were nightmares. This one, this one was strange. It wouldn’t be categorized as a dream or a nightmare, it held splendor and terrible fear. What the product of that equation was just being uncomfortable. _

 

_ Hirschkalb was there, that was mostly the thing that made him uncomfortable. He was as bright as the sun, naked, pure. There were words leaving his lips that when awoken, Ludwig would not remember even five minutes later. They were loving, and filled with joy, and they were lies. They were laced with a knowing fear.  _

 

_ Ludwig knew that they were lies, something as thick as tar and as ancient as evil spilled out of him. Alfred’s face stayed the same, bright and strong. Ludwig hated that, the dark spilling out of him possessed him to snap Alfred’s neck. The brightness of his sun faded away. _

 

_ There was a snap, like a thick branch breaking away from it’s beloved tree. Ludwig woke up. _

_ He would only remember Alfred’s spectacular, holy glow. It only made Ludwig worship his hirschkalb more.  _

 

\--

 

His eyes opened, slowly. No rush was needed. A heavy knowing was upon Ludwig, Alfred was going to go stir crazy soon. There were many, many locks on his doors, the windows nailed down. He would have to lock the rest of the doors in the house, and he’d be able to let Alfred walk around for a little bit. 

 

He usually is never so kind. That fact made itself known, but there was only a small amount of fear, swishing around in the back of his head. 

 

It would be a good test of obedience. If Alfred had an ounce of violence or the willingness to be free in him, he would attempt to run as soon as he could. Then he’d be put to the bed for weeks, punished. Panic attacks or no, Ludwig would do whatever he wanted to Alfred, with the excuse that his behavior was bad, and that needed to be corrected. The man was half hoping to be attacked now, because he could do  _ whatever  _ he wanted to his little hirschkalb. 

 

He could do whatever he wanted to Schatz anyways, but having the authority do those actions aroused something deep in Ludwig. The man shifted so he could look at Alfred properly. The boy waked, beginning to look around with his blue eyes, bluer and prettier than his own. Ludwig rested an arm over the boy’s stomach. Alfred looked at him with lots of fear, and that weighed in on the man’s heart like nothing else in the moment. 

 

Adjustment. It takes time. 

 

Ludwig’s eyes raked down Alfred’s skinny frame, only with the intention of observance. His ribs were sticking out through his thin tank top, just like a starving dog with his skin. His arms were up and properly tied to the bedpost, they had been for a couple days now, but that only accentuated his curves.  _ ‘I wonder how big his penis is between those cute sticks for legs,’  _

 

Ludwig decided to find out. A good, warm bath for Alfred would be nice for him. He wasn’t going to join, that would be too much, even with the boy’s tininess they wouldn’t be able to make a fit. Alfred was awake, Ludwig knew it. So, the man decided to say in his Hirschkalb’s ear, “You’re going to take a bath my boy, I figured that you’re getting a little restless,”

 

Alfred tensed. Ludwig wanted to comfort his treasure, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t have that type of skill set. So, without completely crushing his boy, he lazily rolled over and straddled Alfred, then loosened his knots. If he tried to use his hands, they could easily be pinned down, and he couldn’t use his feet, since Ludwig was almost sure that his full weight would have the ability to snap his partner in half. After the bath would be a hearty breakfast for sure, at the table. If he behaved well, some workouts, and then some cooling off before he went back to the bed. Only if he was a good boy, though. 

 

There was no doubt in his mind that Ludwig needed to get some meat on his Schatz's bones. The man could feel the stabbing edges of his Hirschkalb’s hips and ribs in between his thighs. It was the tiniest bit arousing, but nothing substantial or noticeable. He liked his guests all weak and controllable, like his little rag dolls, but he wanted to see Alfred in his prime. Just to think about Alfred’s frame full with muscle and definition made him giddy. And he was used to starving his guests, to giving them pain and torture and fear, but only when they did wrong with his rules, only when the punishment was in an easily controlled environment where Ludwig had everything in his hands. Where every little thing that could be changed would be changed at Ludwig’s will, it would be like that always and forever. He would not allow anything to go awry, he had gone through enough to…

 

Ludwig has finished on the knot that was binding Alfred’s wrists. It was tied too tight, so his wrists were poor and red, but thankfully the circulation wasn’t completely cut off. Ludwig caringly rubbed at them, just to relieve some of the pain. Ludwig got off of the bed, quickly, as so Alfred wouldn’t have too much time to actually react. Alfred let out the cutest yelp, and then a gasp. It’s like Ludwig knocked the wind out of his boy.

 

Ludwig carried him to the bathroom, and let him sit on the toilet while he turned on the faucet and clogged the drain. He set it on the warm side of medium. He gave Alfred a look, a  _ look _ , and Alfred felt scared for his life in that moment. He knew what  Ludwig meant, so he didn’t even move a hair. He just sat on that toilet, hearing the welcoming sound of a bath begin. There were a million thoughts going through Alfred’s head, but most of them were around,  _ ‘Is he going to kill me or get in the bath with me? I honestly don’t know which is worse, and I don’t want to find out. Please God, oh please let me out of this bad dream. Just tell me that I’m in a dream,’ _ At the end of that thought, Ludwig came in with a bunch of clothes, folded with crisp lines, in his hands, along with a towel. He locked the door behind himself, and Alfred didn’t notice. 

 

“These are my clothes, so they’re going to be big on you,” Alfred saw it humorous how his captor said that with so much certainty. “But we’ll fix that in no time, dearest. You’re going to gain lots of healthy weight, you look like you need it,” Ludwig finished, as he put the clothes and towel near the sink. Ludwig leaned on the wall near the clothes, and simply said, “Undress, please,” It took a couple obligatory nods from Ludwig’s end to actually get the command through Alfred’s consciousness. 

 

Shaking like a leaf, afraid and vulnerable, Alfred took off his shirt. He felt embarrassed and violated, having hungry, unwanted eyes on him. He manages to shake more, it turns out that the fear in his gut was too much of a weight. He slipped the tips of his fingers in the band of his underwear, and tears fell out of his eyes. They were light and shaky, and left no wet trail on his face. Ludwig saw his tears though. Saw the hunched, scared posture Alfred took, and saw the ridges of his spine poking out the shin of his back.

 

“I can’t do this,” Alfred was quiet, he was too quiet for Ludwig to hear what he said the first time. So, Ludwig came over near Alfred, and asked him to repeat himself. Alfred couldn’t tell if Ludwig genuinely didn’t hear him, or if he was angry with him. He repeated himself anyways. For a couple slow seconds, the only noise in the room was the rushing of water, and Alfred’s absence of exhaling. All he was doing was inhaling at a choppy pace. 

 

“You can. Do you want me to do it for you?” Ludwig’s tone was gentle and passive, but the only way Alfred saw it was as a threat. And finally, Ludwig was getting really worried, the nervous exhale from Alfred. Moments passed, maybe minutes by Ludwig’s assumption, and it didn’t look like Alfred was making any progress on his underwear. So, while saying, “You have nothing to be afraid about, my Schatz, nothing to be,  _ insecure _ about,” He took a hold of Alfred’s hands and slid down the underwear.

 

It wasn’t a question, genitalia are  _ precious _ , and precious to people, but Alfred really had nothing to be worried about. He was in good hands, Ludwig mentally assured himself, and Alfred only cried harder as the underwear pooled down to his ankles. To be true to what he said, to make sure Alfred wasn’t any more scared than he already was, Ludwig refused to look at anything but the floor, and immediately stepped away in the direction of the tub’s faucet. He turned the water off, it was full enough for Alfred. It didn’t take much of anything for the boy, he was tiny.

 

Ludwig made eye contact with his hirschkalb, barely even keeling his arousal at bar, and gestured with his head towards the water. Alfred stepped in the tub as fast as he could, welcoming the warm shiver up his back when he fully immersed himself in the steaming water. It was the first bath he’s had in days, and also the first good thing that’s happened to him. It was a pity that this gift was from the hands of his captor.

 

He didn’t get to enjoy much though, because he felt hands trying to tilt his head up. Alfred’s eyes snapped open, to see Ludwig, his shirt sleeves rolled up, giving him the warmest smile he had seen on the man. His ice blue eyes were bright, wrinkles rare around the man’s obscured blues. To see such a smile, without even knowing him for that long of a time, was already very alien to Alfred, and he didn’t know why.

 

Alfred complied easily with tilting his head back, and it gave Ludwig a purr of satisfaction deep in his stomach. His little Schatz was so beautiful, so perfect. So angular and smooth, his skin was soft. Ludwig took a cup from the side of the tub and rinsed through Alfred’s hair, and then applied shampoo when it was wet enough. 

 

Alfred, if he didn’t before, felt like vomiting all over the place, when though he didn’t really eat anything in a long time. Bout, throughout the whole thing, he, for the most part, kept it together. Throughout his hair being washed by another person-Which hasn’t happened since childhood, and was very degrading in a dingy sort of way-having his shoulders rubbed, and being let to wash his own body, under supervision, he didn’t completely melt down. Completely. Tears still slipped past his eyes every once in awhile, but if he made himself not think about his situation so much, things were easier to bare. 

 

Ludwig reached into the tub and pulled the plug out of the drain. He then proceeded to lift Alfred out of the tub, which in itself was a surprise to the boy and was expected at the same time, and was sat on the toilet seat. His hair was soothingly patted and rubbed by a towel, but Alfred didn’t feel any sort of calm. He needed to stay obedient, but he also needed to survive. An attack wouldn’t work right now because of his skinny frame, but he might not have enough time to build his strength. His heart weighed heavily, and while his head was in the mess of a towel being draped and rubbed over him, his last tears of the day slipped out before those were rubbed away, too.

 

Alfred was allowed to dress with Ludwig’s back turned, and he did only that. The clothes were saggy and too big on him, darkly colored and held a foreign, unwelcome scent. Alfred felt sick, and could barely get out, “I’m done,” so Ludwig could turn back around. He felt emotionally tired, so much so that he felt like crying. No tears came out, and his eyes didn’t water, but they burned with sadness and self pity.

 

Ludwig smiled down at his little Hirschkalb, and said a simple, “You look cute, Hirschkalb,” Before he swept Alfred off the floor, exited the bathroom, and placed him on the bed. He tied up his little fawn once more, and then got some clothes and a towel for himself. A quick shower for himself would do, it would be refreshing for him. Not to mention that he hasn’t actually cleaned himself in a little while, he was either too busy preparing for Alfred, or taking care of him…

 

But Ludwig couldn’t be more satisfied or content with his life right now. Sure, Alfred was still getting used to his situation, but it always takes a bunch of time. And he usually would be stressing a bunch about his guests, but it really was a combination of things. Alfred, in his perfection, always made him calm. From the first time Ludwig caught a glimpse of his glowing blonde hair, or his blue eyes, just like blue mirrors, shards of glass hanging in powerful light, to right now, Ludwig was completely content with his life, for once. He hasn’t had any stress since Alfred came into his home, except for the panic attack. But even then, it was only concernful love pouring out of Ludwig’s heart. 

 

Something told Ludwig that something wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way, so early, so strongly. He ignored his reasonable side’s pleas as he stepped into the warm water of his shower. 

 

It felt soothing to be clean, and covered. All his imperfections hidden from sight, and out of Alfred’s innocent mind. Someday, he would show Alfred his scars. He would corrupt his little Hirschkalb, and then everything from there would be up in the air, to be improvised. He hoped that there wouldn’t be so strong an urge to end Alfred, there was a knowing in Ludwig that even if he did his best to make Alfred’s temple a ruin, his efforts would be in vain. Golden and proud, Ludwig predicted Alfred would remain.

 

The man stepped out into the living room, silently scared of Alfred’s perfect gaze. He met it, for a few seconds, before he looked down and up his little Schatz’ body. He walked once more to the ties that held Alfred, and released him. He saw the boy sit up and rub at his wrists, before he said, “Come to the kitchen,” and went himself to start heating up the stew he made for himself and Alfred. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please give any recommendations! Thank you all for everything. I'm sorry that I made you wait so long for you just to be bored with this chapter, but after part two of this chapter gets uploaded and segues into chapter five, things will pick up!
> 
> <3


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ludwig and Alfred have a short conversation. Alfred eats fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, chapter four kind of sucked my soul out and gave me no real enthusiasm to move on with it. Chapter four and this short thing were actually one, long, horrible section once, as if chapter four weren't long and boring enough. I think this will be a nice break for your eyes, Alfred actually learns some things in this, (Like hell I'm calling this a chapter, it's too short), and Ludwig cooks some food. I want to promise you all that it will get more exciting, but you have to deal with a boring author. All I can do is say sorry.  
> <3

Ludwig was a fine cook. He crafted amazing and foreign dishes, but he also knew the basics of cooking that could fill a person up and give them strength when they needed it. With Alfred being so underweight and brimming with malnutrition, that boy needed whatever he could get. Ludwig knew when his guests needed punishment, but when they didn’t, they were treated well. There’s no reason to punish without cause. Punishment was a treat for Ludwig, though. Some of his past guests started to like it as well, even asked for some things that they wouldn’t have before without doing a single thing wrong. The man hoped that was the case for Alfred, even the idea of punishing a willing Hirschkalb seemed to stir something deep inside him, shooting down all the way to his penis. 

 

He needed to focus on properly warming up the food.

 

Ludwig didn’t really mind using a microwave, but sometimes it affected the food in ways he didn’t really prefer. So, he put the whole dish into a pot and turned on the stove. He hoped to everything above that Alfred would like his cooking.

 

When Ludwig turned around, Alfred was sitting at the kitchen island, looking tense in the shoulers, trying to collapse into himself like a dying star. Ludwig smiled at him, and he got a nervous, shaky, polite smile back. 

 

Oh, his  _ smile _ . Ludwig felt judders down to his penis again, and then they traveled down to his toes. His arousal was really getting to him, but he forced himself to turn away and focus on the food. He gave it a stir, added some extra seasonings just for a good measure, and let it sit.

 

Alfred felt scared. He felt scared this whole day, he was sure his heart was going to give out if it didn’t stop pounding soon. This man, this big, scary thing looked like he could reach over and snap something vital in Alfred, and Ludwig would be so quick and efficient that he wouldn’t notice he was dead. This whole situation felt like a thick fog to Alfred, Ludwig was the boogeyman that he was warned of as a child, but never saw. Feared, but never truly felt.

 

Before he knew it, a steaming hot bowl of food was placed in front of him. He looked at it, the smells hit his nose and he was almost drooling. He took a shaky hand and grasped the fork that was in the food and poked at a piece of meat. He looked at Ludwig as he put it in his mouth and chewed, but soon closed his eyes and almost relaxed. He opened his eyes to Ludwig chuckling at him, with eyes full of joy and humor. Alfred couldn’t feel any of the things the man across from his was. 

 

He only felt hotly frustrated and frenzied. The food was some of the best he had in a long, long time.

 

Alfred needed to take a deep breath, so he did. It didn’t help too much, but something was better than nothing for him. Ludwig was still staring at him, not laughing now, his eyes just filled with something like focus and admiration.

 

The student was scared for what he was about to ask. “Why me? Why choose me?” His voice was quiet, but there enough so Ludwig could hear him properly. The last thing he ever wanted was to repeat himself in this moment. His captor’s gaze changed, from light to something that Alfred couldn’t understand. It was a dark look, behind it intense obsessive behavior and arousal, a common trope for Ludwig. 

 

There were a couple moments where Ludwig was staring at his Hirschkalb, looking at all the perfection and not really registering the words that left his mouth. When he realized that yes, his Puppe had said something, he actually took those words into account and he tried his best to think of them. 

 

“Because you’re a perfect thing, Alfred. May I call you Alfred?” He nodded his head without making any sound. Oh, what a wonderful little thing, so polite already! “You’re something with no flaws. And people usually envy that kind of thing, perfection. I have the courage to take that flawlessness and make it my own, by delegation of you being mine,” What Ludwig was saying spoke volumes to Alfred, but all the information he could have been studying right now fell on deaf, panicked ears. Only in retrospect could things be analyzed and dissected. 

 

Alfred swallowed to get the nervous spit back down his throat. Ludwig smiled a homely grin, and asked if Alfred had any more questions. A few, yes. But the boy was almost too scared to even breathe. He nodded again, just to appease Ludwig. He didn’t know what would happen if he left a question of his captor’s unanswered for too long, and the thought of any sort of punishment dealt made the boy quiver. “What’s… How do you…” Getting his thoughts out was difficult, Alfred felt like he had to navigate his coherent sentences through a maze that was always changing. 

 

But Ludwig was a patient man. He saw it as cute, how Alfred had trouble getting his words out. A small part of him felt guilt, that reaction was from fear  _ he  _ was causing, but no matter. He would eventually get used to everything, and this morning, full of beautiful words and questions leaving Alfred’s lips, were a part of that eventual adjustment. 

 

“How do you  _ know  _ someone’s perfect?” The curiosity was thick in the air, coming from Alfred. It was in direct violation of Ludwig’s rules, but for now he’d let it slide. Some reasons were vague, but one was clear: This was one of Ludwig’s favorite questions to be asked. It made him think of all the other perfect people he kept in his house, in his quaint, humble cabin lost somewhere in the north of Oregon.

Ludwig thought about it. It was always a slightly different answer each person, but usually conveyed with the same subject matter. He was wondering how much he should keep from his little Puppe, reasoning that he has indeed been obedient, but still. He could never know with someone, especially so intelligent. So early. 

 

“I just know. Like you know you have pretty blonde hair, Alfred. I see a person, and I see what they can do to this world. How much good they can provide, they have light shining off of them. They’re angels, just like you. I see it every time, I’m never wrong,” Ludwig was so certain of himself, so  _ sure _ . Alfred could hear it not laced throughout his voice, but his voice was made out of stubborn passion. It was in a casual manner as well though, the words spoken felt like it was just another day, like taking people out of their entire lives and forcing them to obey a certain set of commands was very milk toast of Ludwig. That thought made Alfred’s appetite for questions dry up like a drop of water on blacktop.

 

“I have nothing else to ask,” Alfred said, dry and curt. Ludwig smiled at him again. He was going to get sick if he kept smiling, like nothing was out of place. Alfred partly felt like he was being mercilessly teased, as if being kidnapped and made to vanish was something so normal. He felt like this was one big joke, like there were cameras slowly watching him go insane for the sake of a prank. 

 

There was a big part of him that knew that wasn’t true whatsoever. All of this was very real, and very dangerous. And if Alfred didn’t keep his nose clean, he was going to get cut.

 

A chuckle came from Ludwig, before the words were spoken, “Don’t worry. You’ll learn everything in it’s due time. No need to be so anxious for answers,” 

 

A nod came from Alfred. He was done with his dish, and Ludwig took it back from him. There was a sour feeling in his mind that he couldn’t get rid of. 

  
  



	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ludwig and Alfred play some card games, with high stakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm sorry this chapter is so late! I've been having some extreme computer problems, and I found my old chromebook and it's charger in my closet. It's sad how it can work better than my stupid, expensive HP laptop ever could. God damn that stupid thing. 
> 
> But, here's a nice, long chapter for you all. I put some nice time in care into it, but like always, if there are any flaws left, please let me know! I'd love to fix them and make this fic near perfect!
> 
> I love you all, and thank you for being so patient! <3

Days and nights, more than Alfred could count on his fingers now. That wasn’t good, almost every second of his day was a panic attack. Something was going to happen to him, his life was going to be ended, or he’d get traded off to someone else, never to be seen again. Erased off of the face of this Earth permanently, with no hope of escaping. Once he gets handed off into a ring, there’s no coming back from that. 

 

In every moment he spoke with Ludwig, Alfred was too frazzled to analyze what the man was saying in real time. They boy also had to navigate the maze of what was right and wrong by Ludwig’s terms, so in conversations he was preoccupied.  He could try to do better, but he had an excuse. He was kidnapped and being held against his will, with no possible way of calculating or planning his own future, because that was going to be decided for him. Hell of a doctor’s note. So, all the student could really do is dissect every word, every phrase, even in the German he didn’t understand, recognize the tone and speed they were said in, and try to get something from that. A weakness, something he could fucking use. And all the mental gymnastics he put himself through, all the work he toiled for produced only a few, sweet drops of knowledge. 

 

Ludwig wasn’t stable. He knew that much to begin with ever since he could comprehend the situation he was in, but Alfred never knew to what extent right off the bat. The man always covered himself, always had his arms crossed over his chest, even though the house wasn’t cold. Alfred never knew if he was pleased or if he was left wanting more out of life. He looked like he was hiding something, and he was used to that routine. 

 

Ludwig was a smart, smart man. It can be seen in his eyes, in his expression and in his posture that he was bred and trained to be the best at what he was set to do. Very cunning in speech, which made Alfred keep his tongue more than once. There was a sort of control over the conversation Ludwig had that the boy hated with all of his being, and he was usually obedient. Polite. But he was getting frenzied, staying in a house he didn’t know, and didn’t want to be in. He was going to go through something bad sooner or later, he felt it in his gut. 

 

But, from what Alfred did gather about his captor, was vital. There were ways to please him, to get on his sweet side, but Alfred hadn’t really found effective ways to hop that wall yet. But, the boy was just starting to see the faint cracks and depressions in the bricks he could hoist himself up with, just like a fun rock climbing wall he took pleasure in as a kid. But this time, this was life or death. 

 

What frustrated Alfred the most about this strange, foreign man was that he almost had no morning routine that he could see. He either slept beside Alfred in his bed some nights, or in his own room in others. He either took showers early in the morning or late at night. Alfred knew he smelled nice, which was something he didn’t want to know, but did. He didn’t even want to acknowledge anything positive about this man, but smelling nice wasn’t much of a compliment from Alfred in the grand scheme of things. 

 

_ ‘God, this man is strange’  _ Thought Alfred, as Ludwig was reading silently beside him. It was a German book, which didn’t make Alfred feel too at ease. Although, at least it wasn’t Mein Kampf. Even Alfred would’ve picked up on that one pretty quickly, and although Ludwig could still have that book lying around somewhere, he hasn’t seen it yet. He only took a glance at the book and a second later looked away to something else in the room, but that was all it took for Ludwig’s sharp eyes to cut into him. He felt their blades running all across his body.

 

“You think too much, I can always hear the little wheels and pulleys in your mind turning, turning, turning,” Ludwig sounded like a smug, furry animal. A cat that just got a full night’s hunt. “Why don’t you relax, hmm? Thinking about running away from me? Or just trying to take it all in?” Alfred wasn’t sure if those questions were rhetorical or not, but he wasn’t about to take any chances with his silence. That would be worse than giving an answer, in his opinion.

 

“Trying to take it all in,” His answers were brief in concept, and in general tone. He was very tense all the time now, sometimes he couldn’t even sleep because of his anxiety. And sometimes, Ludwig would just stay up with him in an effort to give the boy some comfort, but all it did was make his sleeplessness worse. Alfred was afraid that he’d start to have hallucinations soon- Or just go crazy in general. Being strapped to a bed with no air of consent isn’t going to be good for his mental health, but then again he couldn’t try to waste time stating the obvious. 

 

Ludwig hummed, just in acknowledgement that he was, indeed, listening. “I know it can be scary, Puppe, Hirschkalb. I know. Most people are much more frightened, you’re taking it so well,” An arm heavier than a log wrapped itself around Alfred, and the boy squirmed. “Getting restless? Wait an hour, Schatz. I need to relax with you,”

 

_ ‘Relax, what a word. It’s what you’ve been doing with me for the past couple weeks, you goddamn fucking animal,’  _ Alfred made a conscious effort not to show any sign of anger in front of Ludwig. If anything slipped out, that man would know. 

 

“Thinking, Alfred. Stop thinking so much,” Alfred’s stomach dropped immediately when Ludwig whispered into his ear, any anger he had left him, and had been replaced by the fear of a higher, mightier power. Alfred felt like he was made out of glass, and Ludwig could look at him and see everything he’s done wrong. He was one of those fish stuck in the Twilight zone of the Mariana Trench, see through and fragile.

 

He nodded his head, because it was the best he could do. 

 

There was a deep hum coming from Ludwig, before the man squeezed his unwilling partner tighter. “I’d like to do something enjoyable with you today,” He let go of Alfred and adjusted himself, so he was on his back, staring at the ceiling. Planning with wonder. Alfred didn’t like the look of Ludwig, or the sound of what he just said. Enjoyable to his captor could mean torture for him. He would know that much already.

 

Alfred turned his head away and blushed in frustration in shame. He should have fought it. Tears pricked at his eyes.

 

“Lets play a game, hmm?” Ludwig always hummed when he was sleepy, or when he just woke up. Alfred could always feel the Earth tremble under his feet when it happened. “Any game. I have lots. Out of a certain amount of games, whoever wins the most will get to do whatever they want,” Alfred’s mind went blank after a few seconds of processing what his captors said. He was too tired to deal with this bullshit.

 

They boy huffed. “This is starting to sound like Coraline,” His voice was ridden with fatigue and disbelief. “You ever see that movie?” Ludwig nodded his head at his Puppe, and proceeded to talk. 

 

“No, not like that. I mean like card games, something to lace into a conversation,” Alfred’s panic was only slightly eased. Throughout the past couple weeks, his anxiety has only developed to be worse and worse. Those baths are daily, where he cries almost every time, he doesn’t trust the food Ludwig gives him. His mind was going down a dark road again, and if he was going to survive this he needed to find something to keep him busy.

 

“Which card game? And what would you want if you won? How many-”

 

“Curiosity, Alfred,” Ludwig’s words were elongated, and dangerous. His tone was deep, and going on the verge of irritated. They were a warning, and Alfred immediately shut his mouth. After a few moments of silence, Ludwig said, “Something fun. Hmm, maybe Fuck You?” Ludwig said it too casually for Alfred not to snicker. It was a good release for all his panic, and it was especially pleasing to Alfred when his captor started to chuckle with him. “Do you know of that game?” It was Alfred’s turn to nod. 

 

“Good,” Ludwig sounded pleased, like Alfred did something right. “I think I would want to have sex with you if I won. I’ve waited so long for you,” Ludwig turned to look at Alfred. The boy could barely meet this man’s gaze, frightened and scrambling. All the friendly air, if there ever was a substantial amount in the first place, was gone. “Months, Alfred,” 

 

His eyes were dark again. “Ten games,” Alfred could only nod again. His voice left him. 

 

_ Ludwig is not stable. _

 

“What would you want if you won, Hirschkalb?” Ludwig asked. A pained expression crossed his boy’s face, and he knew that look before. The want to be free, and away from whatever protection and love Ludiwg could give. There was a part that was angry, but another, growing part that said it was all a part of a process. Nothing is ever clean. 

 

Alfred had to think. What could he do that would be to his advantage? He wasn’t even going to try to be slick around Ludwig, because he’d find some way to keep him, but, “I’d like to walk around outside, if-if that’s okay with you,” Ludwig looked interested. The man rested a hand on his boy’s ever growing form, feeling through the shirt that his prominent ribs were already starting to disappear. 

 

“Why?”  _ ‘Curiosity, Ludwig. Fuck,’  _ Alfred wanted to spit those words back in his face. But, he didn’t want to think of the consequences that would follow. 

 

“Because I’ve been here for…” Alfred tried to think of how long his stay was.

 

“Four weeks now,” Ludwig gave. 

 

“Ah, thank you. I’ve been here for four weeks, mostly strapped onto a bed,” The word strapped made Ludwig’s expression amused and sexual. Alfred caught it, and then shakily continued, “I’d like to just take a breath of fresh air, if that's okay with you,” Ludwig’s face turned more amused than sexual, and either way, Alfred wouldn’t have taken it as a good sign. 

 

“You’d have to wear a little…” Ludwig’s face went completely serious, and was dark with sexual urge, “Leash,” Alfred nodded in agreeance and compliance. A leash was okay, if he just got outside. He needed to get outside. Ludwig hummed one last time, before he said a long, “Good,”

 

The man took a deep breath, before he shucked the blankets off of his legs, and crawled on top of Alfred, resting most of his weight on his boy’s hips. Alfred was used to this position by now, but it didn’t make it any easier. Ludwig had an erection once, when he went into this position. The boy didn’t want to think about that. The man untied the knots on the wrists, and proceeded to smoothly get off of his fragile little Puppe. 

 

\--

 

_ It was early in the morning, before the sun made its rising, before all the life left in the coldness of the winter woke up. Alfred was up before them. So was Ludwig. _

 

_ Almost immediately, Alfred could feel his captors eyes on him. There was something wrong. Did he do something bad? Hopefully not. A hand, not his own, smoothly made its way up his thigh. He was frozen, staring at the ceiling that he could not see.  _

 

_ The darkness, and his deprivation of sight, only made Alfred feel the hand now fondling his balls even more apparent. His head was pounding, he didn’t want this. He wanted sleep. He wished he could go to sleep. _

 

_ He hated how his body responded to the touches. His penis twitched, in its own evilness. It got more sensitive, which led to more and more pleasure, and Alfred was crying now. The pounding in his head only got worse as his dick rose, and his eyes continued to burn. He couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t want to. _

_  
__If Alfred pretended that it was someone else, he could cum earlier. But his imagination was never vivid, and Ludwig’s hand was too unique and prominent to ignore. Everything about the man was. There was a part of the victim that didn’t even want to go and pretend, to dissociate, because he always was the person that wanted the reality of the situation. Going and seeing that hand as Maerie’s, or maybe even Jacob’s, would be his subconscious way of forgiving Ludwig by making the situation less harsh. He would never forgive this man._

 

_ Eventually, he did climax. He hadn’t in a long time, and even before his capture, he didn’t have the time for any self indulgence. Alfred’s thighs shook, and for what seemed like the first time in forever, he took a breath, and exhaled in an insecure moan. He didn’t even notice that his shirt was lifted above his chest until ropes of his own semen made a mess of themselves all over his torso. He could guess that it also got on Ludwig’s hand, since he could hear the smacking of lips, of what sounded like fingers being licked after a good meal. _

 

_ Alfred passed out before anything else could happen. When he was awake, everything was clean and tidy. _

 

\--

 

Ludwig set a card down. Alfred set another. The pattern kept repeating until one of them had to take the deck. The current game was their eighth. So far, they were at a tie. Four games won by Ludwig, four won by Alfred.

 

_ “Are you excited for our games? I thought they would spice up our routine, especially in the middle of winter,” Ludwig said, as they were both eating breakfast. “If I win, I’ll be gentle with you. I know how scared you are right now, and that’s okay,”  _ Alfred tried to shake the thoughts out of his head. He needed to win this. 

 

Alfred needed to know. “What will you do to me if you win?”

 

Ludwig looked up from his hand. “I already said. Lay and make love to you, be good to you like you deserve,” Alfred could feel the bile sting in his throat.

 

“Specifically, I mean,”

 

“Oh, look at you, getting all flustered. I think I would want to engage in a good bit of foreplay, to make everything long and enjoyable. Prepare you well, go slow. All of those things. By the time I’m done with you I’d want you to be ready to sleep,” Alfred had a rush of newfound passion to win their games. 

 

In the next few minutes, he would find that his  _ passion _ and  _ luck _ didn’t necessarily line up for that round. He started out strong, but also won by the grace of two cards, and the skin of his teeth. 

 

Then the tenth round decided to happen .  Alfred’s heart was pounding rapidly, as quick as a hummingbird fluttering its wings. And through his nausea, the student decided to focus. It was the last round, and it was the longest one. A game of cards, supposed to last only five minutes, lasted twenty minutes longer. 

 

Each card was strategically placed, and Alfred’s saving graces were either the twos that reset the deck, or the tens that blew them up. He knew that relying on hope was something no one could really do in a card game with high stakes, that cheating was the best option to win. But Alfred didn’t want to get caught, in all of his childhood, he was never taught to lie or steal. The boy knew that it was one of his biggest weak points, but after this, he’d have to start working on it if he wanted to survive.

 

Ludwig has five cards in his hand. Alfred was down to his last card, face down. He didn’t know what it was, and his mind was too frazzled to keep track of the remaining cards, to try and calculate which one it was. He was sure he was sweating bullets, but he didn’t want to put up a hand to his face to see. That would show nervousness, and weakness. And the boy couldn’t trust Ludwig not to eat that chance right up and lick his fingers afterwards. 

 

Alfred didn’t want to think of Ludwig licking his fingers. It reminded him…

 

He had previously put down a nine. And then Ludwig put down a king, just to fuck him over. They looked at each other for a second, and then the man took in Alfred’s expression of true fear and irritation. 

 

Ludwig had the balls to laugh and say, “Oh my Puppe, it’s just a game. Don’t think for the future, think of the now. Your turn,”

 

Alfred took a deep, calming breath and fixed the expression on his face. Ludwig seemed pleased with that. “What does Puppe mean?”

 

“You’re stalling,”

 

“ _ Please, _ ”

 

Ludwig took a moment, and then said, “Well, when you ask so nicely like that, it’s hard to think anyone would refuse you of anything. Puppe means doll, not to be mistaken with puppy. There’s a word for that, across languages…”

 

“False cognates,” Alfred gave. Just to keep the conversation going. He didn’t want to turn the card over.

 

“Ah, yes, thank you. False cognates. Puppy in German is Hundchen. I think I’ll call you that too,”

 

“And… Hirschkalb?” The boy asked nervously.

 

“Nice pronunciation. I’ll tell you all my nicknames for you after you flip the card,” Alfred’s stomach dropped. 

  
Well, it was time for him. It was just a little slip of paper, but it decided if he was going to get raped or not. Alfred slipped a finger under the card, and with care, he flipped it over. The little A in the corner gave him confidence, but not as much as Ludwig’s disappointed face. 

 

He gave a laugh of relief, and looked at the person across the table. Ludwig was smiling something polite, but they both know that he got blue balled. Alfred won.

 

Ludwig got up and walked his way around to Alfred, and then boxed the boy in his arms. The student’s neck was kissed with thin lips. “Hirschkalb means fawn, Shatz means treasure. You know all of them now. I need to come up with some new ones,” Alfred was too happy to be disgusted, or afraid from Ludwig’s strong embrace around him. 

 

It was his first victory in the four weeks of his stay. 

 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred learns what it's like to be prey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I just wanted to thank you all for your patience! This chapter might be a little shorter than others, but I promise you that chapters eight and nice will have contents of... Interest.

Later in the day, when Alfred was allowed to read a book on the couch (Under Ludwig’s supervision), he left the room briefly. The boy took his borrowed time to look at the door he was going to exit, the back one. That door, technically two, with the screen door and then the heavy oak one in front, had developed in Alfred’s mind as an image of escape. Of freedom, and happiness, and all the rights he was given when he was born, but then were taken away from him when he arrived here. 

 

And even now, a simple door with many locks, had developed into something more than its original value. Whenever he’d glance at it, since the last game ended, he would feel an overwhelming sense of calm, pride and joy. It was his own victory. And behind that door, fresh air thick with a sense of freedom. He was going to run. As fast as he could. As far away from Ludwig and his house. 

 

He looked at it some mornings, when he woke up early. He only could if Ludwig was still asleep or not there at all, and he’d look at the soft blue gray light of midwinter, seeping through the small window of the door, beams of light cutting a diagonal path to the ground, where there it stretched and reflected. Some mornings, Alfred could swear that he could reach out and grab the light, hold onto it as if it were a material, and feel its fabric, if he could only get those handcuffs off. Other mornings, he’d reminisce on those thoughts and go back to what he was being taught in his Psychology 101 classes, and think of himself as going insane. 

 

“Excited? I have some things for you, and a leash,” Alfred got excited, damn the leash part. He was going to go  _ outside _ . And Ludwig was even giving him clothes to keep him warm when he escaped, so he didn’t have to worry about that too much. The boy looked around to his captor and smiled, he was too happy not to. He had won something that could mean his freedom, and he was thankful for Ludwig. For giving this freedom, or the chance of it, right into his hands. 

 

Ludwig seemed stunned, because he was. The man had never seen his Puppe smile like that, in all his months of observation. Before and after he had taken Alfred and put him in his home. He always seemed a little sad, and a little worn down from everything in life. But this smile was all joy and sunshine. The man walked over to Alfred, and leaned down. A smile like that deserved a kiss. What stunned Ludwig even more than Alfred’s smile was his boy, moving his lips in tandem with his own. 

 

The kiss deepend, Ludwig rested his hand on Alfred’s stretched neck, and the boy’s hand on Ludwig’s thick wrist. It went from a peck to something needier, quickly. And Alfred was still too happy and excited to care, he might as well give his captor a goodbye gift. This was it. A nice, long kiss, that was going to last as long as Ludwig wanted it to. 

 

And it lasted until they couldn’t breathe anymore. 

 

“Where did that come from?” Ludwig sounded like he conquered the peak of Everest, exhilarated and out of breath. The man looked like it too, his cheeks were red and his eyes, blue and light, wider than what should have been physically possible for his face. The man dropped all he was holding. He then hopped over the back of the couch like it was nothing, and proceeded to straddle Alfred.

 

Ludwig wasn’t sticking his ass out or anything, his arms were big enough to coil around his boy and still have enough space to box him in. Another kiss ensued. This time, Alfred placed his hands where shoulder met neck. “You haven’t answered my question,” It didn’t take long at all for Ludwig’s young look to turn aroused, dark and gross. 

 

“I’ve been too busy having the tongue sucked outta me…” Alfred took a deep breath out of necessity. “I’m happy, I get to go outside, I won something,” The boy allowed himself a small chuckle, “I’m happy,” He repeated. 

 

“If  _ that  _ is what it takes to get you pleased, oh  _ Jesus _ ,” There was a moment of silence between the two, like the rest of the conversation was being spoken through facial language. “ _ Please _ , Alfred,”

 

“No, I won. I get to go outside,” Alfred stood his ground. 

 

Ludwig took a deep, disappointed breath before he whined, “But can’t this be a separate occasion?” The man slid a hand up Alfred’s ribs. He didn’t give time for his boy to answer the question. “No, no. I’m not going to pressure you into that, I can already feel you’re getting tense and uncomfortable. You won, fair and square,” 

 

“I’m sorry,” Alfred didn’t know why he was apologizing, but it was an old habit he thought was dead. 

 

“Don’t, you did nothing wrong,” Ludwig kissed his Hirschkalb’s cheek before removing himself, and then handing the boy his clothes. “You can change in front of me. Better here than walk to the bathroom, it would just be more time wasted,” 

 

Alfred immediately did just that. Even though he was still happy while changing, he knew that Ludwig was watching him. Every part of him while he changed, every inch of skin as it was exposed to the warm cabin air. His oversized t shirt, a cheap cotton graphic with it’s words spelt out in German, was overlaid with a thick thermal. He was given two pairs of thick jeans, and a new pair of underwear. It was hard to even put on for Alfred, which meant it would be a little harder to run for him. But he would still try. He finally put on a thin felt coat.

 

Ludwig stood, and put on a coat of his own. The man fitted the leash and collar to his boy’s neck. Both objects were used for darker purposes, and seeing it around his neck did nothing to calm his sex drive. But, they still could be used everyday, and they came in handy for this situation in particular. 

 

With the leash in hand, Ludwig lead Alfred to the back door. He opened the one, two, three, four, five locks,  _ ‘Jesus, five fucking locks,’  _ Alfred thought. A cold gust of wind hit the boy square in his face, it stung so much that it made his eyes water. Ludwig opened the screen door, and tugged on his Hirschkalb’s leash, but for a moment, he didn’t move. 

 

The man looked back to his Schatz, and he saw that there were tears in his eyes. “Oh,  _ oh  _ meine  Süße,” Ludwig chuckled, and grabbed Alfred, held him in his arms for a few moments. He let go, ant motioned towards the door with his head. 

 

They both exited the cabin, Ludwig was first out the door, and Alfred was the second. The man looked over to his boy and saw the amazing amounts of hope and joy in his features.

 

All Alfred saw was blinding white, everything was covered in snow. The only contrast he was given were the trees extending from Ludwig’s backyard into infinity, the dark bark acting as its own shadow. 

 

They sat on the steps for a little bit after Ludwig dusted them off. Alfred turned his head around to the exterior of the cabin. The porch’s paint was worn down, but nothing a long summer couldn’t fix. Alfred was hoping, if he wasn’t successful this time, that he’d be out by then. The summertime was going to be easier for him to escape in. It’s been so long since he had seen snow, since he had felt it. There was another breeze Alfred felt on his face, before some of the biggest snowflakes he had ever seen started to fall from the sky.

 

Ludwig’s hand made it to Alfred’s thigh, and slid it’s way up to his knee. “Do you want to go walk around? In the snow?” The boy looked at the man, and he then nodded his head. He saw it in Ludwig’s demeanor, the man knew that was going to happen. He was going to let Alfred try to escape. Alfred took the bait. And after a few moments of letting the snow collect in his hair, and in his eyelashes, he bolted. 

 

He got farther than he expected himself to. He had to hit the leash out of Ludwig’s hand, which didn’t take too long. He wanted this to happen.

 

He was in the trees. His heart was beating in his chest, so hard that he always felt it. He always knew that it was there. He kept his eyes on the ground ahead of him, so he didn’t trip. The trees were whizzing past him, the white and black turning into an optical illusion for his eyes. He kept panting, and running as fast as he could. Any hope that he didn’t have in the first place for himself was surely dead, he could hear Ludwig behind him. Ludwig was getting closer now.

 

There were arms around him. Alfred was on the ground with Ludwig on top of him. 

 

The boy was limp and passive when Ludwig started to carry him. He didn’t need to fight it, his game was over, and now it was time for him to go home. If that cabin would ever become home, to Alfred.  _ ‘Hopefully not,’ _

 

“That was fun, Alfred. But you know it needs correction. Punishment,” Ludwig’s voice was very quiet, but relaxed. The boy couldn’t sense too much anger coming from the man. The idea of punishment was still scary to Alfred, he knew that if he got caught, it was going to happen. They were still walking through the trees. Alfred didn’t notice how far he went. 

 

“I know,” Alfred’s voice was quiet too. It was muffled by Ludwig’s shoulder, but the man still heard it. The boy didn’t want to disturb anything around him, the world was too quiet and asleep for that. He wished he could be sleeping, just like the trees around him. 

 

“Why did you do it, then?”

 

“Because… I still have a life out there. I have a family,” He thought of his brother. Of all the friends and past lovers he had charmed. He missed it all. His heart ached, and there were tears forming into his eyes. He let them spill on the shoulder of his captor. He looked up one last time, before the door of the cabin was closed. He tried his hardest to burn the beautiful image of the trees and the snow, of how the porch framed everything perfectly. Of the flakes still falling from the gray sky, and how the thick trees never moved, not for anything. 

 

To his surprise, Alfred was taken to a new room. Not to the bathroom at the very end of the hallway, but to the room to the left. Alfred didn’t even want to imagine what could’ve been in the room on the right. 

 

He was taken into Ludwig’s bedroom. It was tidy, almost sterile. It would have been if the room didn’t share the whole house’s cabin feel. He was laid down on the bed, which was firmer than the one he was given outside. Ludwig was by his side, like the first day he tried to violate Alfred. 

 

“I know you have another life out there,” Ludwig inched nearer to his boy. “But that life only made you skinny, and it made you weak. I could see the sadness in you when you were there, in that world. I’m trying to give you a better life, a better world. One that you can relax in,” The man’s argument did have some valid points to it. But he’d rather have his freedom, his right to choose what he felt and did. 

 

The boy said nothing, but gave Ludwig a sad look. The man smiled back, and then walked over to a window in the room. Alfred thought he could look at the beautiful trees, and the snow falling down, but that was before Ludwig pulled the curtain. It was a thick one, so everything in the room was dark, save for the few slivers of light sneaking its way in. 

 

A few more tears slipped out of Alfred’s eyes, as he felt the mattress sink beside him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm not fluent in German at all. Although I like the language and would love to learn it someday, it also made me physically fevered and angry about how there were a million different words for sweetness. And I get it, sweetness could be used for food, or maybe describing a person, but still. So, being the dummy that I am, I just went with Süße.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, you're going to be introduced to Allistor Kirkland, and that's all I'm giving you. Muahah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I was slow to upload this one, but I was writing a chapter ahead. I've really been hating the chapter's I've been writing, so I think I might take a week off and regroup. Thank you all, for your patience, kindness, and wonderful comments! And I'm not dropping this fic completely, don't worry. I just need to get my head straight.   
> <3

He walked through the hallways covered in cheap, gray carpet. He got a whiff of a coffee scent as he breezed past the break room, and kept on walking, into his office. His cave, just like Sawney Bean. But, he wasn’t really a cannibal, and he didn’t have any kids, thank God. The only relation they had was the fact that they were both Scottish. 

 

People around his office called him Sawney, for his aggressiveness and savagery towards getting cases solved. But it's that mentality that got him to where he was today, and it did a good job of keeping his track record clean. 

 

His loving mother would never call him Sawney Bean, but Allistor Kirkland. 

 

He sat down in his chair. The winters had a nip in California, but it was never bad. This was still t-shirt weather to the Scottish immigrant. With the rain softly colliding with the window, he wished to be a child again, so he had an excuse to play in it. Or maybe to be a teenager again, kissing a faceless girl he was in love with, in the middle of a thunderstorm. He pushed those thoughts aside, maybe for another day. He walked up to his window, and closed the blinds. 

 

In the dark, the man worked better. He wasn’t as distracted by what visually caught his eye, he was left alone with his thoughts. A sensory deprivation tank did him wonders, he could remember a case down to its every little detail, and on some occasions, it’s helped him solve cases. Not the biggest ones, but still. It was an effective method at his disposal. 

 

He could use a sensory deprivation tank right about now, his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. Or, a simple massage could help. He was sad he didn’t have a good woman to do that for him. 

 

Allistor sat at his desk, he had just come back from the bathroom, to try and clear his head. But as soon as he entered his room again, every impatient thought jammed its way through his ears, and swirled around like a low mist in his head. His other cases were moving along quite nicely, and even then, there were only a couple serious ones here and there. But the missing person case was stagnant, and there was always an itch in the back of Allistor’s head when he couldn’t even find an inch about a case. And colleagues of his could sense it, his frustrations and anger. There would be a pat on his shoulder, or a smile from a lady. It only made the itch worse for him, when people tried to help. 

 

\--

 

_ He knocked on the door of the Kirkland residency. What a joke the chief thought it was, waltzing in his office like the shared name of Kirkland wouldn’t make him go a little crazy. _

 

_ Allistor smiled when a pleasant looking man opened the door. Shaggy blonde hair, green eyes, aging just like a father should. Another man, presumably another father, appeared. There was a moment of silence before Allistor greeted the two of them, gave his credentials, and shook their hands. They let him in.  _

 

_ “Would you like any coffee Officer…”  _

 

_ “Kirkland,”  _

 

_ “Oh, goodness! Same last name, what a shock,” The smaller man’s laughter was more out of tension than the relief of it. He had an English accent, and the husband looked French. Sounded like it too, with the small hello he had given.  _

 

_ “Yes, I would love some, thank you,” He wasn’t here for pleasantries, but coffee never really hurt. He sat down with the husband of Arthur. It was an awkward silence before the man came back with coffee, for everyone.  _

 

_ “Alright, before we get started, do you have any usable pictures of your son? The most up to date would be appreciated,” Allistor said.  _

\--

 

The kid was young in the face still, even if he was worn down by all his college work. He could see intelligence and pride, and determination. But he could see by the baggy clothes that he didn’t want to tell his family that he was skinny, and remarkably so. His cheekbones were poking out in the picture provided to him, (It was emailed to him by the brother of the residence), and his eyes were starting to sink in.

 

He felt bad for the poor kid. He seemed to have a tough life, but not tough enough to get any of the attention he needed. It started out tough, too, with his mother giving him up for a closed adoption, which was even worse. Growing up without a mother was hard enough, but with one that wanted to forget about her child’s existence? Allistor sighed. It’s probably not the reason why Alfred’s mother gave him up, but the detective couldn’t possibly try to think about growing up without  _ his own  _ mother. The thought was brutal.

 

But at least Alfred had a brother. Siblings can always help with life, or make it even worse. But by how close the two were in adulthood, it was no stretch to say that they relied upon each other in childhood. 

 

Blonde hair, blue eyes, glasses and freckles. No distinguishing marks or tattoos, but that’s fine. The first thing that Allistor had to go with was a runaway, or maybe a disappearance by the subject’s own will. But the call to the police was after a week of waiting from the parents, which made matters more urgent. There were questions about running away, but most of the discussions were about darker outcomes. 

 

\--

 

_ The brother, Matthew, arrived late. Traffic stuck him up. _

 

_ The last thing they talked about was Alfred’s mental health at the time of his disappearance. In the kid’s records, it shows that he went to a shrink for a couple years, but nothing really more than that. Still, it was enough to raise the question. _

 

_ Allistor didn’t want to gloss over it either. He wanted every single detail, if there were any to begin with. “How was your son’s mental health growing up? Does he have any disabilities or handicaps?” Arthur and Francis looked at each other. Matthew, looking at the pair, shook his head. Allistor would have missed it if he wasn’t paying attention.  _

 

_ The officer kept that in mind. Maybe they’d talk privately, out of earshot once he was through with the married couple.  _

 

_ “He never really had any mental illnesses. We still don’t know, but for a couple years he was really pushing for a psychologist when he really didn’t need one. All around, he was a stable child, disorderly every here and there. But then again, what child isn’t?” Francis said. Arthur nodded in agreement, showing that the belief was shared between the couple.  _

 

_ Matthew kept quiet. _

 

_ “And, no handicaps. He was an average student in school. He really was excelling with his college, though,” Arthur added.  _

 

_ “Why did he go to the therapist?” _

 

_ “Because he said he had depression. He was really pushing for it, even though he exhibited no signs to us, so eventually we gave in. All… All we’ve ever done is love him. I don’t know why he’d run away like this,” Francis said. In that moment, to the detective, he seemed like a sad, tired man. He probably always was.  _

 

_ Allistor wrote down what major points he was hearing, before he gave everyone his business card, shook their hands, and made his leave. He gave a look to Matthew. _

 

_ Before he got to his car, the Scottish man was stopped by Alfred’s brother. “What you heard about his mental health was false. Alfred was deeply depressed in his childhood, and into his college life. He… He was never really helped by our parents. It took a lot of coaxing from me to even have him push for a therapist,” Allistor soaked everything in like a sponge. He could tell that what they parents said were their perception of their son’s childhood, but he could tell that what was coming from the brother was absolute truth. “He was trying his hardest to cope on his own. It’s a main reason why he’s becoming a psychologist, so he can help himself, and others in a situation like he had,” Allistor noted that Matthew used Alfred’s image in the present tense.  _

 

_ “But saying that he had depression doesn’t mean anything in this situation. He was sad, yeah, but nonetheless loyal or loving of a brother. He would have never left on his own, like that,” Matthew said. There was worry and stress in the brother’s eyes. _

 

_ “Now, I know that you two were brothers, and I can’t know your brother better than you. Apparently, you know your brother better than your parents do,” Allistor paused, waited for a reaction from Matthew, but the only reaction he got was a nod. “If there was the slightest possibility Alfred would have left, could you guess why that would be?” He could tell Matthew took his question into consideration immediately, he was lost in thought for a couple minutes.  _

 

_ Allistor noticed how the grass sparkled from last night’s rain. _

 

_ “I think it would have been because… Someone recently separated with him. Well,” Matthew’s nose scrunched in annoyance, and in disgust. “They cheated on him. It left Alfred heartbroken for months, and even until his disappearance, he was still getting over it. He was saving up for an engagement ring for her,” The brother’s words were said in sadness. _

 

_ “Her? Alfred’s friends told me he was gay,”  _

 

_ “People mix gay and bisexual up too easily,” Matthew said, but with a bitter chuckle.  _

 

_ “Yes, they do. I’m sorry. Is there any way you could give me the name or number of this ex of Alfred’s? She might be able to help with the investigation,” Allistor knew he was treading on thin ice. The shocked look on Matthew’s face only proved his theory. _

 

_ “They only thing she could ever help with…” The brother stopped himself, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “Maerie Ekrel, 760-438-7611.” Allistor made haste to write everything down.  _

_ “How do you spell that, son?” _

 

_ “M-a-e-r-i-e, E-k-r-e-l,” _

 

_ Allistor almost turned his back and left, before Matthew said one more thing. “My parents didn’t consistently love Alfred and I. They violently fought in front of us, stole from us because they misspent the rent money. They neglected us. And we only had each other,” The words seemed to tumble out of Matthew’s mouth. There were tears gathering in the man’s eyes, anger and sadness, and love behind the glasses he was wearing.  _

 

_ There was a moment where Allistor looked at Matthew. He sucked in a breath, and said, “It’s obvious that you love your brother very much, Matthew,” And to that, the other man nodded in agreeance. “I want you to call my number, or schedule an appointment. I’d like to learn everything about Alfred, so I can help you and your family find him as soon as possible,” _

 

_ And with that, they shook hands one more time. Allistor left their conversation. _

 

\--

 

The man sighed and put his head in his hands. 

 

His phone rang. He picked it up, put it to his ear, and before even having a chance to say hello, the person on the other line said, “The eyewitness on the Kirkland case is going to come in. This might be your break, Alli,” Mr. Stewart, the secretary, had convinced Allistor that he was his guardian angel. Mr. Stewart always seemed to have something good for him. 

 

“Yep, I’ll be right down,” His Scottish accent came back the strongest when he was excited, or agitated. Stewart knew this, so when Allistor put the telephone back into the receiver, the last thing he heard buzzing from the phone was a chuckle. 

 

Allistor was walking so fast that he could feel the fabric against his long legs stretch, and the draft in the room made wind sift through the red, thin locks of his hair. He knew that there were eyes on him, that people were looking and staring, but that didn’t matter. For once, he could care less. 

 

Down the stairs, take a turn in the opposite direction of the drunk tanks, another hallway. There was his eyewitness, in the last room. It was the only one being used at the time, so Allistor knew it was his. He opened the door, and he saw a small woman, thin and tiny like a songbird. He skimmed the general information about her and her police report, but he couldn’t get his hopes up to hear anything useful. Last time he did, he went home and punched a hole through his wall so hard that most of the knuckles on his hand broke. Sometimes, he still couldn’t flex or grab his hand properly. 

 

“Hello Mrs. Tanaka, thank you for coming in today,” Allistor said. The woman quietly nodded her head and smiled at him. She was an aging woman, the grey just starting to replace her dark hair. As he sat down, the man said, “My name is Allistor Kirkland, detective for the Los Angeles Police Department,” 

 

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Her voice was smooth and light. 

 

“Nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Tanaka. Thank you for your time, and aid to this investigation. Is it okay if I record this conversation?” She smiled and nodded again. He pressed the play button on his recorder. “Alright I have to start off with this: Where were the night of… The 21st of December, from 8 p.m, to 5 a.m?”

 

The woman thought for a second or two. “I was grading papers up until six in the morning. The next day was going to be an off day for me, so I decided to get a jump start on things, for the sake of my students,” Allistor nodded his head.

 

“And did you notice anything unusual in that time range?” 

 

“Well, I’d say, from about 3:50 to 4, Alfred got home. He was drunk, so he made a lot of noise. I don’t blame him, it seemed like the first time in a long time he had to get that type of fun, so I didn’t mind it so much,” Tanaka went on rambling. Her eyes were filled with sadness, and kindness. 

 

“Was he one of your students?”

 

“Yes, he’s a student for my History of Psychology class. He’s one of my most hardworking students,” Allistor noted that just like Matthew, Mrs. Tanaka was using Alfred’s name in the present tense. It was comforting to the detective to know that there were some good people that held out hope for the boy. 

 

“And did you hear him leave?”

 

Mrs. Tanaka’s eyes got darker, as she said, “Someone carried him out,”

 

Allistor’s heartbeat quickened. “To where?”

 

The woman shook her head. “I don’t know, I’m sorry. I didn’t look where. It was the noise of the man that caught my attention in the first place, and it’s not like he was fat, but he was  _ big _ . Heavy with muscle,” 

 

The detective almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why didn’t she come to the station sooner? He’d have to ask that later. “If you saw that he was big, ma’am, did you happen to see his face?” She nodded her head, and said yes. 

 

Allistor smiled. The first real break in the case, but he couldn’t be too happy. He still had to find out why she didn’t report this sooner. 

 

\--

 

By the time Mrs. Tanaka and Allistor were done, it was late into the night. And even though the woman was very polite, it was obvious she was very tired. “I want to thank you again miss, and apologize for keeping you so long,” Allistor said as they were moving down the hallway, toward the main entrance. 

 

“Oh no sir, I’m happy to help,” She said. Allistor stopped close by the door, as she left and walked down the sidewalk without saying goodbye. The man didn’t mind. His shift was done for the day. He went back to his office, gathered the small amount he could call his belongings, and then proceeded to clock out. 

 

He hesitated a bit before pushing the door open. Allistor felt like he could be doing more for the investigation, but the reasonable part in his mind told him to go home. The door was opened, and the first thing he felt were small, invisible drops of water, concealed by the dark. But it didn’t matter, as he closed the door behind him, and walked slightly to the side, so no one could see him. 

 

Standing in the rain, with his head held towards the sky, Allistor Kirkland took a breath. And for a second, before it was washed away with the rain, the man felt young again. 

 


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ludwig is going to punish Alfred for trying to run away from him. But, how will he be punished?

Alfred didn’t even feel scared anymore. He felt angry, and hopeless. And he felt like nothing, but knew deep down, if he really were nothing, he wouldn’t be in the situation he was in right now. ‘ _ Why couldn’t I have ran faster? Why can’t I kill Ludwig? Why couldn’t I have noticed the fact that someone had been stalking me for the past few months?’ _ Alfred thought. He had a burning rage that was aimed at himself. He got himself into this situation, and he couldn’t even get himself out of it. And now, Ludwig was going to do whatever he wanted to him. 

 

More tears slipped out his eyes. They were wiped away by Ludwig’s fingers, which Alfred was not expecting, and flinched violently at. There was a chuckle from the man, which enraged the boy. If only he could punch hard, if he had the muscle to fight, like before when he was younger. God, he would have escaped by now. He’d have to work on his physique, this was only going to be a motivator. “Calm down, Puppe. It’s okay. I’m going to make it good for you,” Alfred cringed. He was almost certain that no amount of effort coming from Ludwig would ever make this a good time.

 

With Ludwig’s left hand at Alfred’s face, his right hand rested at his boy’s knee. The victim didn’t notice until now, that not only was this man incredibly strong and muscular, he also had a monstrous wingspan. In all reality, Alfred was trying to get his thoughts off of the situation at hand, but either they all revolved around Ludwig, or they all went straight back to the punishment. And Alfred still didn’t know what _exactly_ was going to happen. 

 

And even then, through all of his rage, Alfred felt deep regret, and self pity. This is how he was going to have his first time with a man. Yeah, he popped his cherry when it came to girls, but never with another dude. The boy was never really supported about his identity when it came to his family, but that life was much better than this one.  _ ‘Oh, Mattie. I wish I was with you right now,’ _ The tears were becoming hot, and Alfred was starting to make crying, choking noises. 

 

“Hey, hey. Breathe. Please, for me. Just take a deep breath for me, please, Puppe,” Ludwig whispered into his Hirschkalb’s ear. Luckily, Alfred obeyed. The threat of a panic attack wasn’t completely averted, but he had seen how the boy had grown more accustomed to him. Comfortable. And even then, the man wasn’t sure if he could keep himself from his boy, panic attack or not. 

 

Ludwig started to kiss Alfred. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but the man’s heart sunk when his Puppe’s lips didn’t move with his own. He was reminded of earlier in the day, when Alfred was playful and happy, taking initiative to kiss him. And Ludwig kissed his boy again, and with participation from his partner or without it, there was no doubt in Ludwig’s mind that kissing Alfred was the best thing he had done in a long, long time. His lips were plump like a woman’s, but not soft like them. In fact, they were worryingly chapped. 

 

As the man forced his tongue into Alfred’s mouth, he could feel the boy pulling his knee up. Ludwig slid his hand from the top of the knee, to the middle of his Schatz’s thigh, and he  _ squeezed _ . His erection only got harder when he could hear Alfred’s moan, which was really a whimper. 

 

Alfred saw this as only a repeat. What astounded him was why he wasn’t having a panic attack right now, why he wasn’t hyperventilating or passing out. That all could be easily done, but he wasn’t doing it. Alfred feared that he’d only  _ probably  _ get punished worse for passing out. He had a good idea of what was coming. His lungs were starting to burn from the kiss, but just as he was about to, Ludwig broke it off, and gave the both of them some time to catch their breath. The man made himself busy in the moment, by kissing Alfred on his cheek, and working his way down to his neck.

 

The boy felt like he was coated with a layer of oily filth. He felt dirty in every way possible, and the tears were making their way down to his neck. Ludwig kissed his adam’s apple, before he went slightly right of it, and sucked on his skin so hard that Alfred thought it would break. Ludwig tasted salty tears. It made him yelp loudly, which in turn, only made his captor moan. There was a growing sense of nausea in Alfred’s stomach. 

 

The boy’s head was pounding already from the crying. He’d have to stop sometime, or the sex was going to be more painful than it needed to be. Ludwig said he was going to be gentle, but Alfred didn’t need to believe any word he was going to say. That wasn’t going to help him in any way, shape or form. 

 

Ludwig was only now starting to undress him. Alfred, with each layer he put on, felt more and more vulnerable as one got peeled off. All his shirts were off now, and Ludwig grabbed at the buttons of the pants in the dark, felt around them to see what he had to do to get them loose. Alfred tried to pry his captor’s fingers away once, and his wrists got squeezed until his tears weren’t out of sadness or fear; They were out of pain. His wrists felt like they were being squeezed to the point where bone was bending, and the joints were easing their way out of their sockets. Alfred started to squirm violently. It took a couple of panicked breaths for Alfred to start screaming, and just as he started to, his captor let go. Ludwig immediately resumed on his pants afterwards. He didn’t try to pry away his captor’s fingers again.

 

The buttons on both pairs of jeans were open, and so were the flies. Alfred didn’t lift his hips so Ludwig could get his jeans off, he didn’t want this to happen. But the student knew that he was only delaying the inevitable. And, to his predictions, Ludwig shimmied his jeans off, along with his socks and boots, and threw them near where he tossed the shirts prior.

 

In the dark Alfred didn’t feel any safer. He couldn’t expect the moves Ludwig was going to make, because he couldn’t see him. He had to rely on his hearing, and to his luck, it was always his superior sense. His vision was never perfect. It sounded like Ludwig was messing with his own clothes now, taking off his shirt and coat. And from how quickly the sound of a zipper came into existence, Alfred could guess that his captor was in a hurry. 

 

Ludwig pulled out lube from his back pocket. He didn’t necessarily anticipate Alfred trying to run, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. It was nice to fantasize about, he tugged at his dick when Alfred was sleeping, or when he was in his own room. He’d been dreaming of this moment for weeks, even months. Ludwig’s heart was beating fast out of excitement. The little amount of light that  _ was _ coming through the curtains made Alfred glow. He looked soft, and scared. The brightest thing about his boy’s face were his tears.

 

Ludwig was completely nude now, and he stayed there for a second. He wanted to take Alfred from the behind, but he also wanted their first time together to be special. He thought, for a couple moments, weighing his options.  _ ‘I’m already in the dark… but what if Puppe feels my skin? He’ll be disgusted. He’s already felt my hands, and it looks like he’s fine with that,”  _ Ludwig decided that he was already in the dark. His past guests would only be taken from behind and blindfolded, if the room had light in it. 

 

_ ‘I’m going to give Alfred so much pleasure that he won’t notice me. Ohhh, yes, perfect,”  _ Ludwig thought, as he searched for his Schatz’s penis. He tugged at it, and rotated his wrist. Through the tears, Alfred’s breath hitched, and the captor could feel him squirm on the bed. 

 

Alfred’s right hand reached for the sheets, and he gripped them so tightly that he could feel his knuckles burn. Nails that were left to grow dug into his palm, through the thin fabric. With a large, calloused hand on his penis, one that wasn’t his, violating him, he tried to think about the two apparent options he had. He could let go for right now, let this be an easy time for the two of them, and start thinking again when everything was over. He could relinquish whatever he had left for a short time, before he got it back. Or, he could fight this with everything he had, and spend himself and his energy. 

 

_ ‘Slow and easy, Alfred. Let it happen. Don’t think,’  _ The boy thought. His tears slowly stopped as he coached himself into a makeshift meditation, and the hand gripping the sheets so tightly relaxed. Only for a moment though, before he felt two fingers covered in lube prod at his hole. He tensed again, and his hand gripped the sheets. 

 

Alfred’s tears were ready to fall at a moment’s notice, when his captor said, “Hey, calm down. Relax for me, Puppe. You were doing so good, and it’ll feel better if you’d relax,” Alfred tried his best to do what Ludwig was telling him. In the end, Alfred saw submitting right now would be the best for him.

 

The fingers slowly eased their way in, and started to move back and forth. All Alfred felt was weird, and it kept like that, until Ludwig curled his fingers in the direction of Alfred’s stomach. The student took in a sharp breath, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He had only ever played with his prostate a couple of times, he either didn’t have the time or energy to work that much for his self-pleasure. 

 

Ludwig kept at that routine for a couple minutes, before he could sense that Alfred was going to cum. So, the hand that was giving attention to Alfred’s penis left, and instead rested on the hip of his boy. He inserted another finger. Three was enough for him, he was sizeable, but Ludwig wasn’t the biggest man in the world. And frankly, he was comfortable with that. Having the biggest penis didn’t necessarily mean a good time for the person taking it. 

 

The man could feel Alfred getting used to his three fingers. So, he took them out, and guided his dick with his hand, since he didn’t have all that much light and vision to go by.

 

Alfred was looking at him, he could feel it, Ludwig could see the dim reflection of light coming off of his wet eyes. The man had to close his own when inserting himself into his little Puppe, he was too tight and perfect. He knew that if he went fast, he wasn’t going to last long for his Hirschkalb at all, and Ludwig already promised Alfred that he would make if good.

 

Only his head was in, and the boy was whimpering. Ludwig smeared the rest of his penis with cold lube, which made the man jolt. He put his hands on Alfred’s bony hips after that, and opened his eyes completely. Alfred was glowing, silver this time. Usually, it was gold. Ludwig wondered if it was because of the snow today. 

 

Images flashed through Ludwig’s mind, of Alfred running through the forest, his hair swaying side to side. He really was as graceful as a doe. And with the extra layers of clothes on, Ludwig saw what Alfred would look like if he were at a healthy, normal weight. He remembered how hot and bothered he was when he caught Alfred, an erection he didn’t even know was there made itself known. 

 

The man inhaled a deep breath, and Alfred seemed to follow suit. Ludwig slowly pushed his way in, feeling more fevered every second, until there was no more of himself he could give. Ludwig tried to process the tight heat wrapping around his penis, coming from someone perfect in every way, and in a moment, he could have sworn that his brain was about to pop out of its skull. He was so filled with pride and love, his heart ached, and Ludwig shed tears at the utter emotional attachment he was feeling for his boy. For the first time, in a very, very long one, the man allowed himself to make love. He felt like there was no more air in his lungs, and he couldn’t breathe in. He was drowning in Alfred’s holy light, and for the entire time, Ludwig felt purified, cleansed. 

 

He pulled out slowly, and pushed his way back in. Almost casually, he angled his hips so they’d have a better chance of hitting Alfred’s prostate. 

 

Alfred couldn’t believe the sounds he was making, because of this man.  _ For _ this man. And with an exhale, Alfred sent the rest of his thoughts with the air he was breathing out. His mind went blank, and he only registered the pleasure Ludwig was giving him, the burn of still being stretched by the man’s considerable girth. He could feel his captor pushing in again, and he felt tingles of pleasure when his prostate was hit. 

 

There was a hand on his penis again, and Alfred gave a breathy moan in thanks.

 

Ludwig repositioned himself, so he was more on top of Alfred, instead of in front of his boy. He pulled out, thrust in. It’s been a long time since he’s had slow, loving sex like this. The man savored the moment, let his mind go blank for a second or two. Pleasure shot through him, making him jerk and shudder. 

 

He resumed, and he noticed how his little Puppe was breathing. His breaths were deep at first, but now they were starting to get more shallow. Ludwig wanted nothing more in the moment to just think about himself, but Alfred was a force that couldn’t be ignored for the man, even if the boy didn’t know it yet. Being this close to his perfection made a rock of anxiety sink in his stomach, but it went away when Ludwig pulled out. The man sighed in pleasure. 

 

When Ludwig picked up the pace, he could feel his boy tense up. Legs, skinny and warm, wrapped around the higher part of Ludwig’s thighs. And eventually, hands came to wrap around the man’s shoulders, and eventually decided to rest at his back. Ludwig didn’t feel too good about that, having hands all over his skin. But Alfred didn’t seem to notice, and Ludwig was hoping that was the case.  

 

The next moment, Alfred was making a choking sound. Ludwig was concerned, he didn’t know what was happening, until he felt a thick wetness on his fingers. He was surprised, and very pleased. Most guests at this point, the male ones at least, would be soft and flaccid, and there wouldn’t be any cum. Ludwig was proud of Alfred. Tear streaks that just started to go away were there in full effect again, and Ludwig couldn’t think of anything else, except,  _ ‘He’s so beautiful,’ _

 

Then, he came inside his Hirschkalb. Ludwig felt like he was on fire, like his brain was churning violently, and it all was pleasurable to him. When it went away, feeling Alfred’s glow, he sunk, and rested his head on his boy’s chest. Through his heavy panting, he kissed the space between both of Alfred’s pectorals, before he raised his head just enough to kiss his boy’s lips. They were limp, and they didn’t move.

 

The man pulled out of Alfred, and forced himself to stand, and forced himself to walk away from the perfection he just tasted. He went to his bathroom, took a small towel, and dampened it with water. He was so used to everything being in its place, that he could do it in the dark. He’s done it before.

 

He walked over to Alfred, who was now completely limp, and wiped the cum off of the boy’s chest. When that was done, the man folded the rag in half and cleaned the cum that was leaking out of his boy’s ass. There were a few sniffles coming from Alfred, and Ludwig’s heart sank.

Suddenly, while leaning over his Puppe, and just about to put the rag in a dirty clothes basket, he heard, “Can you open the curtain?” Ludwig nodded his head before realizing that it was probably too dark in the room for his boy to see. 

 

“Yes. But I want you to close your eyes, and I don’t want you to open them until I say so. Do you understand?”

 

“Yeah,” It was the last word to come out of Alfred for the night. Ludwig stood up, and felt his heart beat a little faster than usual. He was still naked, and if Alfred saw his scars, he’d surely be corrupted by then. And that meant death. For the first time, Ludwig didn’t want that. The man took a part of the curtain, and slowly pulled it so the window could be exposed. The entire room was light again, but Ludwig knew that the sun would set soon. The clouds were already getting darker. 

 

His boy’s eyes were closed.  _ ‘My good, obedient little Schatz. Thank you,’  _ Ludwig thought. 

 

The man made sure to quickly get back in bed, and then hide himself under his many blankets. He wrapped his arms around Alfred, and smiled into the boy’s neck he was pressed against. The smell of Alfred’s hair was warm and heavenly. “You can look now,” Ludwig’s voice was no more than a distant rumble, quiet and deep. 

 

Alfred opened his eyes. His body was turned in the direction of the window, and he saw his trees again. His snow. Ludwig decided to take a peek at Alfred, and saw that tears were coming out of eyes that looked empty and emotionless. They were like a glass doll’s eyes. But the man didn’t worry, he’d be okay soon enough. 

 

They both fell asleep soon after that. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for getting through that, if you did. I honestly didn't like writing that chapter at all, in fact, I hated it. Smut scenes are never my thing, neither is sex or rape. This isn't my first smut scene I've ever written, and it won't be the last, either. I hope you all had some type of delight reading that, because that's why I write. Next chapter is going to be better, don't worry.
> 
> <3


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the collision, Alfred can still feel the ripples, and Ludwig battles with foreign emotions.

 

Darkness seeped into his skin, absorbed his senses, he couldn’t move. Paralyzed, he only had his thoughts tending to his company. He was thinking about something far away, farther than the desert, farther than the most outer reaches of Earth’s grasping exosphere. Space, just like he dreamed when he was a little kid, his parents sending him and Mattie to summer camps funded by NASA, stars twinkling like the neurons firing off in his brain. He wished that he could fly through the nuclear dust of galaxies, feel what it’s like to have the cosmos’ burn of naked radiation course throughout his nervous system.

 

He didn’t think of anything else. For the past amount of unmeasured time, Ludwig, and anything associated with the man, was erased. The only thing he could feel were his thoughts, and how space turned into water, solar flares wrapping around him turning into seaweed. His lungs brought him closer to the surface. His mind, completely clear now, let the rest of his body regain control of itself. Tingles crept through his body, warm and comforting. 

 

Alfred opened his eyes, and was met with the soft blue glow of dawn, and his captor staring at him. He flinched, and tried to scramble his way out of the bed, but before he even got to the edge, there were arms around him. A feeling he was already getting used to, but still was something he loathed. For a second in time, Alfred’s confused mind forgot who the man in front of him was. And then, everything came rushing back to him. 

 

“Shhh, sh. I’m not going- I’m not going to-  _ Alfred! _ ” The boy stopped trying to fight when his name was spoken from the lips of a deep, commanding voice. One he knew he had to abide. The boy was frozen into his position, hands full of muscled flesh. “Alfred,” Now, the voice was softer and much more relaxed, and the boy relaxed with it. He wasn’t too used to Ludwig actually saying his name, he was either called Hirschkalb or Puppe or Schatz, with the occasional Süße. 

 

Anything that went through Alfred’s mind left a warpath of rushed anxiety. Ludwig’s pronunciation of his name echoed and rippled in his mind, coming in through the ears and swimming throughout the cracks and crevices of his brain. He focused on how deeply the man could roll his r’s, like a big cat’s purr. 

 

More tears slipped out of the boy’s eyes. A pitiful hand tried to brush them away, but even more came, and covered the fingers resting on his paling face. “Oh, shhh, such a sad boy. It’s okay, you’ll feel much better soon,” Ludwig whispered into Alfred’s ear. That only made the boy cry harder, out of fear. Ludwig could feel his Puppe shake. The man was cradling his boy now. Ludwig caught on to that fear, like he was made to smell it, like he was a shark. “No, no, not like  _ that, _ ” After a few moments of silence, Ludwig asked, “Would you like to stay here for the next couple of days, or would you like to stay on the bed in the front room?” 

 

There was another long, stretched moment where there were only sniffles and choked breaths, coming from Alfred and his crying. The one good advantage of staying in the God awful room he was currently in, was he could see the trees and snow, Alfred’s very image of freedom. But all the other reasons were rotten. So, he all he could say in answer to Ludwig’s question was, “Front room,” And then the man immediately stood up. 

 

Alfred felt a burning in his chest. It was a mix of anxiety and sadness and anger, all culminating into a sludge he felt he couldn’t get out of his system. It took the boy a couple minutes to get out of the bed, but when he did, he was met with a patient Ludwig standing at the door, smiling something guilty and apologetic at him. Guilty, which meant he  _ knew  _ of the acts he committed. Anger usurped Alfred’s emotional throne for a second or two, before he stood, felt queasy, held his vomit down, and took a couple steps.

 

Getting out the door of Ludwig’s room, he felt better. But still, not as good as he should have been. Alfred’s mind was reeling at a thousand miles per hour, his head felt like it was filled with tar. He wondered if it was too much to ask Ludwig of excedrin. Alfred was wondering why his head hurt so bad, but then the thought came,  _ ‘You just got the shit fucked out of you, Alfie,’ _

 

“Cuh…Can I have some excedrin? Advil?” Alfred didn’t even look to Ludwig for an answer. He just sat on his bed, and held his head in his hands.  _ ‘Why did I let this happen to me? Why couldn’t I have just died first? God, I want to die, please let me go,’ _ More tears were forming behind his closed eyes, before Ludwig set a glass of water and a medicine bottle down on the nightstand near Alfred’s bed. 

 

Finally, his boy looked up. Ludwig felt hurt that his Puppe couldn’t even look him in the eye anymore, sometimes that happened with his guests. But he never felt so disappointed, or heartbroken. He knew that Alfred wouldn't approve of their first time together, nobody ever did. But it hurt especially with Alfred, something about the boy made Ludwig have the urge to protect him. To nourish him, and make him stronger. 

 

That scared Ludwig. As soon as he set the glass and medicine down on the nightstand, he walked a couple steps away and distanced himself from his Puppe. 

 

With languid care, Alfred took the bottle full of pills, shook out some, and swallowed them dry without knowing there was a glass that could’ve helped him. As soon as Ludwig alerted him though, he gulped the water down. After that, with tears still threatening to fall, Alfred laid on the bed and put his hands in position for them to be cuffed to the post. When Ludwig made a surprised and pleased sound , it sent a spike of nausea down to Alfred’s stomach. It reminded Alfred of how the man sounded the night before, he couldn’t shake the noise of Ludwig’s breathy groans off of his shoulders. 

 

The tears were almost there. When Ludwig actually did arrive with the handcuffs, Alfred couldn’t even look in Ludwig’s direction. If he did, the boy was almost certain that he’d either throw up all over the place, or he’d start to sob again. And Alfred figured that he’d been crying too much, his already small ego and pride were damaged enough already. The student couldn’t even breathe without getting choked up. 

 

Ludwig reached a hand out to touch Alfred’s sweet face, but before he even made contact, he could see his boy tense. He slowly took his hand back, and asked, “Are you hungry? I can make you something,”

 

Alfred’s brain took a long time to process what his captor was saying. “Yes,”

 

“What would you like?”

 

“Anything,”

 

And with that, Ludwig went away to his kitchen, and Alfred turned over, as much as the handcuffs twisting his arms would allow him. With some semblance of privacy, even more tears shed. Alfred never thought that he could cry this much, but he was also never…

 

Alfred’s mind went blank. He decided that he didn’t want to think about anything, and that he didn’t need to. If being a personal fucktoy for his captor would all he’d amount to, being emotional and having racing, obsessive thoughts wouldn’t be needed. There was a part of him that couldn’t believe that he was giving up, and laying down for Ludwig to do with him as the man pleased. But he did do that. He did that yesterday, when he let the man catch him in the woods, in the dark bedroom, in here. The boy felt hopeless, and a few hiccuping sobs left him, which caused Ludwig even more concern. 

 

Ludwig set the food down on the table, not knowing anywhere else to put it. The nightstand was too small for the hearty breakfast he made. The man walked over to his boy once again, and he took the cuff keys out. The sight of splotched purple and red around his boy’s wrists alarmed him though. The man quickly released Alfred’s hands, and when the boy sat up, Ludwig knelt down right in front of him. 

 

Ludwig took a hold of Alfred’s wrists, and rubbed his fingers over them, as gently as he could. It still made his boy hiss in pain, and there was a jab of anxiety in Ludwig’s gut. It made him feel the exact same thing he did when he was a boy, and he did something he wasn’t supposed to. And on a deep level, that frightened Ludwig. Wrists were his favorite part to bruise, and he always felt good doing it and looking at it afterwards. But for Alfred, there was something different. Ludwig didn’t know what it was, but when he looked at the dark blotches on his Schatz’s wrist, all he felt was guilt and remorse, and the need for punishment. 

 

_ ‘What a dirty, horrible thing I am. God, his wrists look so bruised, I hope I didn’t do anything permanent, he’s so delicate, I didn’t know I did that much,’  _ Ludwig’s thoughts were rushed. And his heart only sunk more when Alfred turned to face him, with empty, crying eyes. They were so blue, and sad. Because of him, and Ludwig didn’t know what he did wrong. Was it because of the wrists?

 

They boy was crying, but nothing more than that. His breathing was steady, his eyes giving a thousand yard stare. Ludwig felt like he was nothing, like he was invisible. There was a greater feeling than his guilt, one that crushed everything else in the man’s brain. He wanted to illicit some type of emotion in his Puppe, because his heart ached and wrenched when he saw that there was nothing in Alfred’s eyes. None of the dreams, or joy, or the brightness. None of the intelligence that was always with him. 

 

They stared at each other for a little while, until Alfred asked, in a polite, shaken voice, “What do you want?” Ludwig had a million answers for that question, but not enough bravery to voice them. So, the man just stood in front of his boy, and helped him up. Ludwig noticed quickly how Alfred limped because of last night. Instead of feeling pride, Ludwig was only indifferent. He’d feel even more guilt if he let himself, but right now, things needed to be done. Like breakfast, or taking care of his Hirschkalb.  _ ‘I’m being self absorbent when I have a boy right in front of me that needs me. What the hell am I doing?’  _ Ludwig critically thought.  

 

He pulled a chair out for Alfred, and the boy sat down. He started to eat immediately, usually he waited for Ludwig to begin. Sheepishly, the man pulled his own chair, and started to eat as well. 

 

It was a long time before any person in the room wanted to speak, and it was a while before anyone did. The air of silence was tense with both Alfred and Ludwig, but they continued to eat. Alfred was the first to start his food, and the first to finish it as well. They boy was obedient, and he didn’t get up from his chair. He waited to see what Ludwig would do first. 

 

“What do you want to do today? Workouts? Reading? Whatever you want, really. I have some movies lying around…” Ludwig looked at Alfred with unsure eyes, and there was another thick moment of silence. 

 

“I need my glasses for a movie,”

 

“Oh… _ Oh, _ they’re probably outside. I’ll get them for you, don’t you worry. You’d like to watch something?”

 

“Yes,” Alfred responded, curtly. The boy couldn’t even look his captor in the eye. For some reason, the man sounded nervous. But, that could be a little bit expected.  _ ‘I guess people always act weird after sex… oh, fuck,’ _ Alfred felt a new, hot wave of tears coming out of his eyes. The large hand that started to cover his own only made it worse. 

 

“Wh…” Ludwig lost his voice, and regained it again. He took his hand off of Alfred’s, and stood up. He was done with his food anyways, seeing his Puppe this panicked and sad killed his appetite. “I can trust you to stay here while I go out, looking for your glasses, yes? I won’t have to give you the handcuffs?”

 

Through deep breaths of sobbing, Alfred gave out a, “Yes,” 

 

And with that, Ludwig put a coat and snow boots on, and exited out the back door. He closed it behind himself, and looked through the small glass window. Alfred was shaking violently, with his head in his hands. The light reflected off of a few tears that fell straight down. The sight made Ludwig shrink, and his eyes, for the first time in years, watered up. He jerked his head away, and reminded himself that there was a pair of glasses he needed to find. 

 

The man retraced the steps taken the day before carefully. Once he got the hang of it, every single footstep, covered by the erasive snow, was remembered. Ludwig could practically see Alfred, trying his best to capture his freedom, running. The man looked down.  _ ‘His glasses should be around here somewhere. I’m going to be sad if they’re lost, they fit his face so well,’ _ He thought. 

 

Panic settled in Ludwig’s stomach when he couldn’t find Alfred’s glasses. If he couldn’t find them, that was just another failure in the span of two days, and the man wouldn’t have that. He’d have to punish himself for being so incompetent.

 

The man looked frantically from one point to another, his eyes glazing over the almost blinding snow, and the light absorbing trees. Dead branches shielded Ludwig from the sky, weaving together in a cloth of shade. But the man looked up, and instead of protection, all he saw was a cage with many bars. His breathing became shallow, and instead of standing in one spot, he was almost to his knees, crouching, looking close at the snow. 

 

Ludwig was acting like a hungry predator. His senses were heightened for his goal, his vision made brights and darks clearer, every breeze seemed to whistle past the trees and into his ears. Ludwig could feel how the fabric stretch uncomfortably against his skin. 

 

It took a couple minutes longer of searching from Ludwig, until he found a thin shimmer, coming from Alfred’s glasses. His heart beat fast out of joy and hope. The wire was a gold color, almost holding as much splendor from his boy’s glow. Maybe it was like that, because the glasses were Alfred’s. It was something to think about.

 

Ludwig felt proud of his small achievement, he stood tall. The man took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. He looked around himself, and wondered why Alfred had grown such an attachment for his backyard. It was all dead and barren, and cold. Maybe when he let his Hirschkalb calm down, he could ask.

 

Walking back to his house, it dawned on Ludwig that Alfred still might feel bad for trying to run away. It made perfect sense to the man, breaking a rule that big would only bring emotional strife for every party. Ludwig walked faster, not noticing the trees Alfred cherishes. Ludwig felt the world blur around him, the goal being the door that was in his view. The man quickened his pace, so he was more jogging than walking. 

 

Ludwig opened the screen door hastily, took a breath to calm down, and slowly opened the oak one. He closed both behind him, and then he shucked his boots off carelessely, and hung his coat up on the rack. He looked for Alfred, and saw that the boy was no longer on the table, but standing at a window, near the front door. Ludwig noticed that none of the many locks on the door were tampered with, and the man felt pride for his obedient boy. All Alfred needed was a correction here or there, but in general, Ludwig knew he was dealing with a dream of a guest.

 

Quietly, the man went by his boy’s side. There was a long moment of silence between them. Ludwig looked at Alfred, and saw that he wasn’t crying anymore, and that gave some solace to the captor. There was no talking between the two men, they just both looked at the trees, and the falling snow. “Is it okay if I put my arm around you?”

 

Alfred tried to process the question, but he didn’t want to care about it. What harm could it really do? “Yeah, it’s fine,” The boy said. And then, Ludwig proceeded to wrap his large, heavy arm around his Puppe’s waist. 

 

“Why do you like the outside, Süße? Is it just so you can escape?” Ludwig was sad. Everyone in his life wanted to get away from him, and even the most perfect, beautiful creature, is something he could not keep properly. Ludwig thought of the shows he used to watch when he left his family home, of how women agreed to go on dates and meetings with men, and how they followed each other willingly. Such a concept was very alien to the man. 

 

“Because it’s beautiful,”

 

“But it’s all  _ dead _ . I thought you’d like it more in the summertime, when everything is lush,” Ludwig responded. A thing as golden and alive as Alfred can’t represent the coldness of winter, the man was sure. He was all life and joy, as bright and warm as sunbeams. For a second, Ludwig could smell the life of summer, the deep emerald green shimmering in his mind. Alfred was there, in the center.

 

“Things aren’t really dead though, just sleeping. I like the contrast between the dark trees and light snow. And I do enjoy the summer, I just like the winter too,” Ludwig thought it was a good explanation. He hummed, and rested his head on top of Alfred’s. 

 

“Would you like to go to the bed? Watch some movies?” Ludwig asked. 

 

Alfred looked at Ludwig, forcing the man to keep his head up. “You got my glasses? That fast?” Alfred’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, and disbelief. The boy looked so cute to Ludwig, with his head tilted. 

 

“What can I say? I’m a determined man,” Ludwig stated with a chuckle. For the first time, Alfred actually noted his captor smiling, being loose and light. Still smiling, Ludwig fished his Puppe’s glasses out of his pocket, and the boy took them. Ludwig was the first to step away from the window, and Alfred followed. 

 

While Alfred sat on the bed, Ludwig went through movie titles for the both of them to watch. Eventually, they both settled on some horror b movie, just to play in the background. Ludwig inserted the disc into the player, set everything up and when the movie started, he went behind Alfred on the bed, and laid down. 

 

Alfred laid down with him. The boy felt a thick arm lift over his side, and rest on his ribs. And he wasn’t too panicked when he could feel his captor’s deep, calm breaths warmly spread over his neck and shoulder. The movie was playing in the background, soothing voices almost being able to lull the boy to sleep. For a moment in time, he was taken back to a better place in his life, and for a second, he was being cuddled by a high school love he had forgotten, instead of Ludwig. He didn’t pretend, he believed.

 

Alfred was relaxed, he didn’t notice the characters on the screen, looking at each other with love in their eyes, he didn’t notice the awkward position his glasses sat on his face. And he was about to go to sleep, until he heard, “I forgive you, Alfred,” At that moment, Alfred’s consciousness felt like he was floating up to the surface, and his eyes opened. He turned his head and saw his captor, his heart sunk. 

 

Tears formed into Alfred’s eyes. The boy didn’t know what he was feeling, maybe it was rage and hurt, or possibly sadness. Or, joy. Alfred couldn’t tell for the life of him. Ludwig, however, was pleased. He saw something on his Puppe’s beautiful face, other than eyes that were glossed over, and a face with no expression. 

 

The man could barely contain himself, he wanted to kiss his Schatz out of happiness, but knew that he had to be patient. One step at a time. Alfred started to sob, heaving in deep breaths of emotion. Ludwig hurriedly removed his boy’s glasses.

 

Ludwig didn’t know what to do for a second, he was frozen. The happiness was gone now, because his Schatz was  _ crying _ . The helpless feeling he had earlier in the day resurfaced, and all the man figured he could do was hold Alfred and hope it helps. After that, the man slowly started to cradle Alfred, he cupped his Hirschkalb’s head in his hand. Alfred then buried himself in his captor’s chest, which only gave more space for Ludwig to hug him. Muffled sobbing noises could be heard, and Alfred was grasping at Ludwig’s thick sweater. There were a couple of long moments where Alfred was buried so deep into his captor’s chest, the Ludwig could barely hear the crying. Ludwig could feel tears seep through his sweater and undershirt, and the heat of them shot right through his flesh and blood and right into his heart. Ludwig’s eyes watered again, before he quickly blinked them away. He was lucky Alfred couldn’t see that breach of strength, Ludwig would surely have to get punished if he was caught.

 

As Alfred was crying in Ludwig’s arms, with the blessing of his captor’s forgiveness, the characters on the TV screen kissed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, because most of the time, I wrote this in the early hours of the morning. It's when I'm the most productive, but it's also when I make the most grammar mistakes. So, if there a bunch, don't hesitate to tell me. ;)
> 
> <3


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allistor visits and interviews Maerie, Alfred's former lover. What will we learn about the man?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I just want to say to all of you that I am extremely sorry for being so late to upload. I'm not gonna lie, I just lost a lot of steam, got busy with other things, and got a little depressed there. But writing for you guys helps with everything, so I'm going to keep trying at it. Again, I am sorry. <3

It was raining when Allistor hurried himself into the apartment building’s main hallway. The neighbourhood he was in was still wet with the tears of the Great Depression, lead paint cracking with age, wood bending to the will of rot and water damage, but somehow, the sum of each broken part still made the machine run. Some places in Allistor’s new country were still touched with a poverty that’s lasted more or less one hundred years, but he found that in his travels, the east and west coasts, branded for their popularity and trade businesses, were the ones worse off. The Midwest and South seemed to be doing a little better, even if they were constantly hit with harsh winters or hurricanes. 

 

And as he looked outside, with the greenest trees he had ever seen swaying almost violently in the wind, Allistor decided that he favored the hearty middle of America. California was enjoyable, though. He would live there for a few more years to come, or at least until the case he was currently working for stopped itching.

 

Allistor pressed a button with the apartment number 47. Soon after, the speaker produced an ugly noise, and the detective heard the locked door clicked open. He let himself in, and climbed a considerable sum of flights before he finally got to the place he needed to be at. The man would have found the fact that there was an elevator at his disposal the whole time humorous if he didn’t have such a passionate temper. For posterity’s sake, (Which wasn’t too important when it came to the Scottish man), he let himself breathe away from the front of Ms. Ekrel’s door, so she couldn’t hear or see him. 

 

He sifted a hand through his hair, and tried to straighten his tie without a mirror. He knocked on the door, cheap plywood with no glass. No doorbell either, just a peephole and a copper door knocker. There was a shuffling behind that threshold, a detail that would go unnoticed by someone with an untrained ear. 

 

Quickly, the lock turned and the door opened. Allistor showed his credentials, stuck to his script, and Maerie let him in with a shy smile. She saw him as tall, cold and burly, the drops of water still sliding off the thin strands on his hair. It was red hair, which could be easily changed, but all in all, she was exactly what she needed in a man. People either feared cops, or saw men with badges as arousing. For Maerie, the fear aroused her. 

 

_ “They cheated on him. It left Alfred heartbroken for months, and even until his disappearance, he was still getting over it. He was saving up for an engagement ring for her,”  _ Matthew’s words of caution rung in Allistor’s ears, over and over again, every time he took in Maerie’s face. 

 

She saw the man politely slide his shoes on the doormat, and let himself in. With cold, analytical eyes, she saw him survey for anything illegal, or maybe trying to gauge her personality from her room, which only happened in crime novels, right?

 

Maybe not. The still cold look on his face didn’t ease the cold ball in her stomach, either.

 

“So, um… Why care so much about this case? The family gave me a heads up about you, and you wanting an interview and, um…” Maerie went into the kitchen and was fidgeting with her hands, until she decided that a glass of water was the best way to go for her. Maybe calm some of those red hot, unstable nerves, cool them into the volcanic, unbreakable glass that her ego told her she was. “You just seem very interested, is all,”

 

“I take my cases very seriously. Just because you don’t see too much of a work ethic from my coworkers doesn’t mean you have to assume the same about me, Ms. Ekrel,” Allistor’s voice was cool, chilled over years of dead bodies, cases run dry, disappointment and rage. He didn’t need to bring his hopes up, but he needed to vault himself into this case, and bring his mind at its peak performance. All for the sake of a boy he could reasonably see as his son, one that he never had in the first place. 

 

His statement brought a slight shock to Maerie. To her, what seemed collected to Allistor, seemed impassioned and almost angry to the woman. In her mind, a statement like that was an asteroid entering into the Earth’s atmosphere, blazing wildly. Or maybe, in all truth, it was just her way of romanticizing things, so she could make the situation a little more bearable. Even though she did some nasty things to Alfred, in her own way, she still always loved the man. 

 

There were a couple long measures of silence, before the conversation started up again. “What would you like to know?” Maerie asked, while putting her glass on the table. She tried her best to stare at the policeman with a poker face. She knew that he was going to ask about the cheating. Maybe not now, but definitely during their conversation. 

 

“I’d like to start off with your permission to record this interview,” Allistor said. 

“Of course,”

 

“Alright,” Allistor clicked the play button on his phone. He remembered when he used to have to actually use a recorder, and the thought almost brought a smile to his face. He continued, “Could you clear up the mental health situation? The family seems kind of torn on that situation,” Maerie looked down, and to her side, thinking of the words she wanted to say. She thought back to Alfred, and got lost for a moment, how much she loved him. How eager to please he was, in every single way. How loving. She decided to tell the truth. 

 

“I don’t know if it ran in the family or anything, but there was something  _ really  _ wrong. I can give you hospital documents, but he tried to, um… He tried to kill himself,” Maerie paused to look outside. Rain was whipping at her windows, little water fingertips tapping at the glass. This was Alfred’s favorite weather, it was when he could think best. She hoped, for his sake, that there were gray skies where he was. 

 

“I’m sorry,” It was all Allistor could say. 

 

“It is what it is. It’s just… God, he was intelligent enough to  _ hide  _ it. Completely. Even in retrospect, there were no warning signs, none. He’s smart enough to do anything, really,” Maerie said. 

 

“So, I’ve been hearing from everyone that Alfred’s smart. How smart?” Allistor asked. 

 

“Depends on which type of smart you’re asking for, friend,” 

 

Allistor blew out of his nose. Not out of frustration at Maerie, but at the slowness of this case. “What was his strongest area?” He asked. 

 

“He saw weaknesses. In people, as if they were made out of glass. If he really wanted to, he could exploit that strength, but he never really did. He just pushed people to better themselves, improve. Sometimes, it was freaky. He could just  _ know  _ a person by getting a couple sentences out of them,” Maerie explained. 

 

“He would try to help other people, but not himself?” The detective questioned. 

 

“No, not at all. In his eyes, he didn’t amount to much. He’ll never know how many lives he’s touched,” Maerie said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, this is a very, very short chapter. It's the length I used to write when I first started out, and I don't want to revert to short chapters. I was planning to write a lot for this chapter, but I find myself having no interest in this particular one. I want to put actual work in developing these characters properly, so I'm almost certain that I'm going to add a little on to this chapter later. Love you all. <3


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the wait, but I just started the school year again, so that's always going to keep me busy. But fear not! I'm still very dedicated to this fic, and there are a couple others in the workshop as well, (Comment if you have any ideas, or if you'd like to co-write!), and I will be uploading as much as I can! This chapter is back up to it's average length, (Heh). Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> <3

 

He woke up to a hand touching his face, rough knuckles traveling over his cheek, and he flinched, opened his eyes, and tried, even though his arms were above him and wrists restrained, to get away. A tug on his shoulders, his shirt lifting up to expose a part of his lower stomach. Ludwig could hear his breaths quicken, and then slow down quickly after that. The German sat there, paralyzed. A statue moved more than him.

 

Things decided to calm down between the two men. Ludwig relaxed, and the boy followed. “I’m sorry,” Alfred said, very quietly. Ludwig was smiling at him, _‘Why is he doing that?’_ The boy thought. 

 

Still smiling for no reason, Ludiwg placed his hand on the side of Alfred’s waist, his forearm lightly resting over the boy’s growing stomach. The man noted the weight gain in that area, healthy and firm. It pleased him, to see that his boy was growing flat, instead of wasting away, hollow. His ribs were nearly gone, replaced by muscle, from all the workouts done. 

 

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Schatz... Have you done anything wrong?” Ludwig’s voice was deep, and the morning not leaving his vocal chords meant it was even deeper. The baritone in his voice presented itself in it’s deep rumble, not to go unappreciated even by his victim, Alfred. 

 

“No,” Comparatively, Alfred’s voice was cracked and small, like a child’s. In all reality, he was fearful for any reprimand to potentially come. Since the rape, Alfred had been punished twice. The first time, it was for snapping at Ludwig, when the man was prying too deep and the boy needed his space. Even though Ludwig saw reason, and treated his Puppe softly, the misdeed still needed correction. Steady rules would fix Alfred in no time, the man knew that. He was punished, late in the night, or early in the morning, the moon or sun was making its rise or fall, either way, giving enough light to illuminate the room with silver. The snow was falling, and the shadow of the trees made jagged shapes through the window beside the front door. Ludwig had put his hands all over him, and his mouth too, but Alfred was grateful that nothing was put _inside_ him. It stopped when Alfred came in his pajamas. 

 

The second time, Alfred was washing the dishes, and one slipped out of his hands. It shattered on the floor, and the man cleaned his mess. He felt extremely guilty, and there was a part of him that thought he deserved the punishment. The boy was fairly certain that time was just a ripe excuse for Ludwig to be flirtatious, and sexual in nature. Their entire conversation in that ordeal was lighthearted on the man’s side. Alfred was sat on the counter while his crotch was ground against by Ludwig’s own. They both came that time. Alfred tried to banish those thoughts from his mind, but he decided to make it reminder: Don’t fuck up. In real time, he smiled bashfully at his captor, which made the man’s eyes light up. He smiled with teeth this time, and it was more of a welcome sight than the first time. 

 

“You are my good boy, Alfred. _My_ good boy,” Ludwig said, his German accent growing thicker with the emotion he allowed himself to show. The man slid up to be on top of his Alfred, and whispered in his ear, “Say that you’re my boy, that you’re mine. Please,”

 

“I...I’m your boy,” Alfred’s voice was even more shaky and meek than before, filled with fear. The man sighed, his Hirschkalb being afraid started out as a turn on, the source of his many fantasies, but he was getting tired of it, at this point. More than fear, Ludwig wanted acceptance, whether he consciously knew that or not. 

 

Ludwig’s smile fell, and Alfred’s fear grew even more. He did _something_ , for sure. Ludwig would still be smiling at him if he didn’t do anything wrong. The boy got squirmy, afraid that his captor was going to give him a swift punishment. Though, it never came. 

 

Alfred had his eyes shut, and when he was waiting for a hand to touch him, to _invade_ him, all he got was a kiss on the cheek before Ludwig slipped away to the kitchen, making lunch. That was one good thing about this whole situation, Alfred was sure. The food was the best he ever had. One of his fathers, Arthur, knew the cooking staples. Francis was a certified chef, but for some reason never made food for the family. 

 

Ludwig’s cooking was something entirely different. It was the one reward that Alfred could focus on, something that kept him going, just like the beauty of the trees, or snow. The student knew that he needed to focus on the small things, beautiful things, and block out all the ugly. There would be a time for his escape, a small window for his freedom. That time would come, and he’d know, but in the moment, he needed to keep his head screwed right on his shoulders. 

 

A smell, slightly sour but mostly salt, made its way through the room. Something good was being made. Alfred tried to focus on the sounds the kitchen was making, wooden spoon scraping food around against a sizzling pan, the gas oven making a constant hiss. The man had a timer for his food, something in the oven, sweet smelling. The timer was ticking away, the mechanisms that made it function working perfectly, like an instrument in tune. 

 

This was the way it remained for a few precious minutes, to Alfred. This small moment seemed invaluable to the boy. He’d treasure it, try to burn it into his memory for safekeeping. The scents, the sounds, it all took him back to a much more peaceful place. Not necessarily a peaceful _time_ for Alfred, most of his life was very turbulent, with only a few people acting as a beacon for him to follow. 

 

But place? Alfred always had one of those lying around in his brain. Sometimes, when his parents would fight about something, he either had his brother or their shared room, or his mind. The mind was a last resort when it came to situations like that, but it was still a handy skill.

 

Mattie. Alfred’s eyes started to tear up, and pain shot right down into his heart. He missed his brother. Wanted to just be by his side.

 

The boy was snapped out of his thoughts once Ludwig set a plate of delicious looking food right in front of him. God, how long was he lost in his thoughts? He didn’t care, he had a meal to eat. Something else to focus on. For a long, uncomfortable moment, Ludwig had to spend time undoing Alfred's restraints. There were a couple instances where the tips of Ludwig's fingers would touch Alfred's wrists, and each time it made the boy think back to-

 

As soon as he let the food spill over onto his tongue, he groaned. Every time Alfred thought he ate the best thing ever, Ludwig would come around to prove him wrong. This was definitely something this man was good at, and it was the only good thing happening to the boy since his capture. 

 

Something alien happened to Ludwig. He felt happy, he pleased Alfred. Pleasure shot through him, and pride. He stood a little taller, even if he didn’t mean to. His lips started to curl upward, in the semblance of a smile. Butterflies, in his gut… That hadn’t happened to him in a long time. The man felt as if he lost a couple pounds, and if he jumped, he’d just float away. 

 

That feeling didn’t last long, however. Fear overtook it, ate it up. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way, at all. By this time, he usually started the process of getting bored of his guests, toying around with them like a cat toying with prey. But throughout the days, weeks, that Alfred was here, Ludwig got more and more infatuated with him. 

 

Right now, the man was just staring at his boy, not really knowing what to do. And if Alfred were more brave, maybe he would ask Ludiwg how he got so good at cooking. But that was for another day, when the student’s fears of the man decided to ease up. 

 

Ludwig decided to sit by his Schatz while he ate. He was content with observing, but as soon as he sat down, his boy stopped eating. In fact, he froze in place, just like a deer would, and he looked at Ludwig though his side vision. Alfred was asking himself why his captor would be sitting by him, right now, and just _look_ at him. No, he did something wrong, and he was going to get punished for it.

 

 _‘Oh, God, what did I do now? What is he gonna do to me? Is he gonna kill me, oh no, oh God-’_ Alfred’s thoughts were interrupted when Ludwig gave an awkward cough, and looked at the wall in front of him, instead of his Hirschkalb. Surprisingly, dragging his eyes away was harder than the man thought. Alfred was just too beautiful _not_ to look at. 

 

 _‘He isn’t as pretty when he’s scared,’_ Ludwig thought. 

 

The man decided to look at his boy one more time, and asked him, “What can I do? To make you stop… fearing?” Alfred looked at him. For the first time in days, in the _eyes_. That made Ludwig’s heart skip a beat in joy, and in nervousness. He could have made his Schatz angry. Even though there was no trace of rage on Alfred’s face, it was always in the back of Ludwig’s mind to expect a striking blow. 

 

The man sunk to the ground, slowly making his way, so he was under Alfred. He put his broad hands on his boy’s knees. Alfred noted in his mind that there was something eager in Ludwig, eager to please maybe, and he weighed his options. If he indulged Ludwig, that might pacify him, but it could also make him bored.

 

“I…” Alfred started. He never finished that sentence, because he looked away, ashamed and afraid, and Ludwig’s heart sank to the floor. Ludwig tried to establish the eye contact he was craving, but Alfred wouldn’t let that happen. 

 

“What did I do wrong?” The man asked, looking at his Hirschkalb with earnest eyes. He wanted to fix whatever was broken, right whatever wrong he committed. Truly, the man was clueless. There was a wave of hot, uncomfortable anger welling up in Alfred’s chest. It’s the type of anger a man feels when he’s wronged, the red hot steel of a testosterone fueled fire. Usually, that type of anger won wars, lawsuits, bar fights and injustices. But there was still logic in Alfred’s mind, telling him to wait a second, telling him that he was still physically weaker than Ludwig, so if he spent that anger now, his efforts would be useless. 

 

There was another part of him that didn’t care, that wanted his hands to go around his captor’s neck and turn his face purple, to feel that final snap in his neck. It would be the perfect opportunity. Alfred had the advantage, and as images of violence swept themselves inside his head, the anger gradually seeped away. The logic won. Once again. 

 

The best thing to do would be to bottle that anger up, all of it, every last drop, and like honey, put it in his mind’s pantry, for long term storage, and eventual use. He could be angry when he needed to be angry. Right now wasn’t one of those times. 

 

Alfred didn’t say anything, but gave a short sigh in response. Ludwig learned quickly throughout his lifetime, from other people as well, that a sigh was usually the end of an interaction. So, Ludwig stood, and went back to the kitchen so he could wash the dishes he used minutes before. Still sitting on the bed, Alfred wanted to break something. Dishes, chairs, the vase on the table, windows. Anything fragile that could be broken. Instead, Alfred asked across the room, “Would you want to work out with me?” He still wasn’t looking at his captor. 

 

Ludwig stopped the water from the sink, and looked at his boy. He almost couldn’t believe his ears. Did that really happen? Ludwig wasn’t so sure. Sometimes he heard things that he could swear were real, that no one else heard. Deciding to not take any chances, Ludwig responded with, “Of course,” Short, but open, and friendly. The man could tell that he made his Puppe angry, and he didn’t know why. Just to know that Alfred would be this kind, this patient and gentle with him, made Ludwig fall in love with his boy even more. Definitely, he chose well. If he were still in contact with his family, they would approve of his Schatz. 

 

“What would you like to do?”

 

“Anything. Just somethin’ to get tired from,” Ludwig nodded. He could work with that. And with that done, Ludwig went back to his dishes and resumed washing them. Alfred looked outside the window that was beside the front door. It's curtains were usually closed, but for today, they were wide open. Snow was falling, like it always did when Alfred looked outside. He felt a sense of emptiness wash over him, only for a second, and that was the closest thing to calm the boy would get for awhile. And he knew it, too.

 

The sink stopped, and Ludwig dried his hands off. Then, slowly, the man walked into Alfred’s section of the room, and looked at his boy expectantly. His hands weren’t bound, neither were his feet, so Alfred rose, and came to meet Ludwig in the middle of the room, ready for his exercises.

 

They stood close together, now. Ludwig was leaning into Alfred’s personal space, making this moment intimate for the man, and intimidating for the boy. The American didn’t know what was coming next, whether it was punishment, or an unwanted, “Reward,” Or something he couldn’t anticipate. 

 

“Can you _please_ tell me what I did wrong?” It struck Alfred that the German _really_ didn’t know, and it confused the shit out of the boy. But he wasn’t about to get brazen and do anything stupid about his anger, no. He had already decided that he was going to play this game smart. 

 

Maybe someday Alfred would tell Ludwig the implications of his actions. But right now, even thinking about it, remembering how it _felt_ . Alfred felt sick. His mind started to race with thoughts of that night, how shameful he felt afterwards, how confused he _still_ was about his… bodily reaction. It made no sense, and the fact that it happened only fortified Alfred’s guilt in the matter. After that night, Alfred had tried to cover up his body with all the clothes he could get his hands on, scrub his skin red. He was filthy. He knew it.

 

Tears started to form in Alfred’s eyes, and Ludiwg saw it. Immediately, the man recoiled away from his boy, afraid that he had started another wave of crying. Luckily, those tears never came, and for once, Ludwig knew better than to further that topic of discussion. 

 

The man remembered when he was a child. His mother would cry when he did something wrong, just like Alfred was crying. And throughout the years, that same feeling of guilt never lost its strength. The man’s heart truly felt heavy, knowing that he committed a sin he did not understand.

 

Alfred looked up at Ludwig, and said, “What are we gonna do?” 

 

For a couple moments, Ludwig was confused. He didn’t know what Alfred was talking about. “What?”

 

“For our workouts,” Alfred reminded. 

 

“ _Oh_. I was thinking stretches first, and then weights. We’ll see where we can go from there,” Ludwig’s tone was friendly, and he offered a polite smile. It was one full of affection, guilt and love. Alfred didn’t return the smile, but he gave a courteous nod instead. 

 

“Sounds good,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! I hope you all enjoyed that mess of a chapter. If you have any constructive criticism, corrections, or suggestions, put 'em in the comments! Leave a kudos if you liked!


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred craves some books, and gathers the courage to ask Ludwig for some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right people, this chapter is one of my longer ones. And, toward the end, I really didn't know what I was doing, but winging it is my specialty. I hope you all enjoy!

Ludwig knew he was awake. Usually, his mind, when becoming conscious, was still a mess of half dreams and fantasies playing out in his head, his slight gain in control of them signifying the end of a long night’s rest. Reality wouldn’t necessarily  _ clash _ with his sleep addled brain, but it would mesh with it, as if the flow resembled a Van Gogh painting, all going and swirling together in one uniform way. This morning was one pristine example of those instances. Not knowing his surroundings, and not really caring either, Ludwig let his body rest while his mind skipped away on its own adventures. There were thoughts about his brother, his beloved, perfect brother. White hair and pink eyes, just like the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. His other siblings too, however numerous they were. It was such a large crowd in his family, that most of the time Ludwig couldn’t remember most of their names. But he could remember his big brother’s, like he just saw him yesterday. His heart yearned. 

 

The man opened his eyes. His mind was jabbed with bright golden blonde hair, eyelids covering irises blessed completely by blue. It reminded Ludwig of a pool’s reflective light, flowing and shining. Alfred reflected in the sunlight, and it made the man smile. His boy was like the glow of a firefly, or a bronze mirror reflecting a sunset. A beacon.

 

The morning was warm in winter’s standards, (that was mostly because of the fireplace going). The sun, golden and brazen, made its way forcefully through the man’s window. Ludwig felt comfortable in the weight and pressure of multiple thick blankets, laid on top of him. He also felt very comfortable with Alfred, almost nude save his briefs, being wrapped up in his arms, tightly. Breathing pounds of perfectly smooth muscle and flesh, bone and nerve and marrow, all in his arms to be with. Alfred was his. There was something deep in Ludwig’s gut that curled with pleasure at the notion, and at the possession. It was fine if the boy didn’t know it,  _ yet.  _

 

_ ‘I wonder if I should move him into our-’  _ Ludwig sucked in a breath, steep and tense, conscious of the fact that his boy was still sleeping. Ludwig  _ knew  _ that was a forbidden thought. One that would lead to many others, and it would make the leaving of his guest all that more sad and painful. The man couldn’t feel his own heartbeat, and for a solid moment, his mind stopped. Froze. 

 

Ludwig decided that he didn’t want to think about that. It was too early, too peaceful, and too warm of a time to even have cold thoughts. Those thoughts were for when he was deep in the forest, or when winter turned to spring, and spring into summer, and he bathed in the river. It was for when his mind was clear on the fact that he had made another mistake, by bringing someone into his home, and he would make Family angry with his shame and disappointing actions if they ever found out. There was a short moment where Ludwig’s panicked mind was filled with fast, obsessive thoughts, not even finishing themselves before being rudely interrupted by the next one. The most disturbing thought to him was where Alfred’s grave would be. 

 

The others didn’t have graves. But Alfred deserved one,  _ needed  _ one, and if Family ever asked, it could be the grave of a dog. They’d be angry, and he’d get punished for the dog, but not like a guest. The grave would be by the river, where he bathed. So every spring, and summer, and Ludwig would force himself every fall too, to visit his Alfred, in his most Naked and Vulnerable form, and apologize for his Wrongdoings. 

 

_ ‘Our,’ _ It was the man’s last racing thought before his mind came to a halt. Ludwig wanted to say it out loud, just to hear the sound of it. If it rang in his ears with truth and beauty, or if it struck fear into his heart. He knew he couldn’t, since his Hirschkalb was receiving the rest he deserved, but he knew that he didn’t need to say it. Even if he did, he knew that it would probably incite both reactions.  _ ‘Fear, and beauty. That’s what my boy is. Fearsomely beautiful, beautifully fearsome,’ _

 

For the next couple minutes, Ludwig toyed around with the mental sounds of words to describe his Schatz, in both languages he spoke, but mostly in English. He only spoke and thought in German when he was horny, or when he was in his darkest, lowest moments. The guttural, deep sound just was more for reserved, private moments that he kept with people he could truly trust. It wasn’t like many people in California, or Oregon, or any other state he’s visited really is too keen on speaking German. Ludwig was happy that it was that way, or he’d constantly be “Popping a boner,” As Alfred jokingly said, once. It was when he was in a better humor. Ludwig worried and fretted over a way to restore his boy’s good moods. 

 

English was something different entirely. Not to be flaunted, per say, but it was like the Elvish people hear in those Lord of the Rings movies. Graceful, beautiful, and all too complex. Ludwig’s mastery of the language didn’t come too easily to him. The man feared he was too slow to learn anything properly, but the language was drilled into him, and either way, it worked. 

 

Ludwig snapped out of his thoughts as soon as he felt a change in Alfred’s breathing. Lo and behold, (His father liked to say that when he was angry, Ludwig was anything  _ but _ right now), Alfred’s eyes started to open and expose themselves. There was no part of Alfred that Ludwig could say he admired and revered the most, but the boy’s eyes were astounding. To him, they are too beautiful to be allowed to exist. From the unfocused dots of his boy’s pupils, to his eyelashes, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t love.

 

They were the type of blue one would find plastered all over a child’s bedroom, the color of blue one could find in almost every well crafted oil painting. They ranged, depending on the day, and the light, even sometimes what Alfred wore, but it all watered down to a magnificent shade of blue that Ludwig could never find himself getting out of, unless Alfred broke the contact. And for a precious minute or two, Alfred didn’t break that contact. 

 

And for a precious minute or two, Ludwig was too enraptured by his boy’s morning eyes to actually get aroused. 

 

“Good morning,” Ludwig couldn’t predict how deep his voice would be, hushed and low, the morning making it even deeper, and the oncoming signs of a small cough making it even deeper than that. In truth, what he said sounded more like unintelligible growls than any word in a spoken language, but somehow, Alfred understood. 

 

Alfred broke eye contact, and Ludwig’s heart ran all the way down to the lowest parts of his stomach, in guilt and grief and shame. It was a couple of seconds, and the man was already convinced that he would get no return. No words, no more eyes. Not even a glance in his direction. 

 

“Good morning,” The smallest voice came from his boy. For a moment, Ludwig couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Slowly, the man started to smile a small grin, one that was fit for the morning hours, and he kissed Alfred on the cheek, making the interaction long and loving, so Ludwig could keep it for later. Alfred made the man genuinely smile more than Ludwig ever could have anticipated, but it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise. 

 

\--

 

_ Alfred needed a way to distract himself. The ache in his muscles, the grime he felt. He scrubbed himself raw in the bathtub, one of the only times he could be alone, and he still felt grime on the surface of his skin. He knew what it was. It wasn’t bacteria, or a buildup of dirt. It was trauma, and it was going to take years to recover, if Alfred ever got out of this situation at all. He knew this. For a moment in time, he speculated how crazy his life was turning out to be, and not in a good way.  _

 

_ This is the type of situation he saw in poorly written fanfictions, or slasher horror movies that always ended in blood and death, or a Stephen King book. Rarely did this ever happen in real life, but in all the astronomical chances of it ever happening to someone, it had to happen to him. Alfred. There was a bitterness that rose in the boy’s stomach as a product of that thought. Tears started to well up in his eyes, the upteenth time that it happened that day. In all of his life, Alfred could never remember crying so much, wallowing in so much sadness and terror for his innocence, his life. _

 

_ The emotions were just as strong, and they overwhelmed the logical bitterness he tried to cling to for some precious seconds. Then, he saw that the plate in front of him wasn’t going to clean itself. It was a delicate dish, the type of china that didn’t come from China, but came from England. Alfred could tell.  _

 

_ For a moment, Alfred took the plate out of the sink to put it on the drying rack. It slipped out of his hands, and like all fragile china does, it shattered on the floor. He remembered his pa’s ceramic plates, thick and sturdy, still being used after being dropped. There was barely a chip in that strong gray beastie of a dish, but this? This shatter was something you’d have to send off to a mending company, and pay extra for it to be mended in gold. (Eventually, that is what Ludwig did. The man knew fully that he could have mended it by himself, but he wanted to spend more time with his boy. And Alfred, observing that whole process of putting heirloom shards in a cardboard box and shipping it to a far away place, wondered how much money Ludwig really had.) _

 

_ Alfred’s anxiety was at such a high rate that his world felt lighter, and his tunnel vision, a precursor to his panic attacks, began to present itself. He was so focused on the broken plate that he didn’t notice Ludwig behind him, but he definitely did when the man put his hands on his boy’s hips. Alfred’s heart jumped, and so did the rest of his body.  _

 

_ The amount of fear Alfred felt would never be able to be put into words in that moment. If he ever got out, back into society… (What a hopeful thought), and told his family how much fear he felt, the boy was sure he’d just break down on the floor, like that pretty china plate. Alfred, in many senses, was that china plate, all broken on the cold, dirty cabin floor. The boy noticed how many dust bunnies there were on that floor. He tried to distract his mind and count them.  _

 

_ Alfred could feel the warmth coming from the man behind him. It would be inviting, but it wasn’t. For obvious reasons. The hands on his hips turned into arms that wrapped around his waist. Lips, chapped, pressed themselves lightly to the shell of Alfred’s ear. A shiver went up the boy’s back, and a sad recognition of where this situation was going to lead. The scariest thing was his captor’s penis starting to twitch it’s way into being a hard on.   _

 

_ “That was a good plate. A mistake, I know, and I forgive you. You won’t have to clean it up. Get on the counter,” Ludwig’s voice was soft, and low. It didn’t need to be anything else. Alfred could feel the lips move with words, his voice so saintly and patient that he barely even registered the weight of what the man was saying. _

 

_ Still, Alfred had enough sense to do what his captor told him. Failure to do so would result in an actual punishment, and Alfred emotionally couldn’t handle much more at this point. Even the boy consciously knew that.  _

 

_ Turning around slowly, Alfred met his captor’s hungry face. The man actually looked hungry, and that would have at least made itself as a point of interest to Alfred, if he weren’t so detached. The ache in his ass brought dull spikes of tense pain, while the cold counters made a shiver go up the boy’s spine. Hands, broad and hot, slid up his thighs, while his captor stepped closer to him. The counters were a little lower than average, and Ludwig a little taller than Alfred, so the captor still had to look down at his boy.  _

 

_ Ludwig was careful not to step on the china plate any further, or get any shards in his foot, as he kissed the boy below him.  _

 

_ The lips he was kissing did not move. They were cold until Ludwig eventually warmed them up with his own. Alfred’s lips were chapped, flakes of hard skin scraping against Ludwig’s lips, the man assumed it could have been easier to kiss the broken plate on the ground. Alfred kept his eyes slightly open, while his captors’ were completely closed. Ludwig pressed closer now, and the boy was cornered.  _

 

_ Finally, Ludwig pressed on his boy. After that, Ludwig’s sighs were in Alfred’s ear, and they started to ring throughout the house, the only sound being made. For Alfred, he never had too much sex in his freedom. Only with a woman. A. And even then, he wouldn’t consider it his first actual time, his virginity, like most other virgins, was a title put on a pedestal, to be used with care and caution. His first time, he always envisioned, was to be emotional and close. His first time with a lady? Neither. _

 

_ He never had full on sex with a man. Alfred only gave blow and handjobs, ground on gentlemen like Ludwig was grinding on him, always to be serving, and eager to please. And now, his virginity was an afterthought. Something cast away in the cold, silent snow, to be erased and buried.  _ _ Alfred pondered, for a small moment, if he would ever tell Ludwig that it was his virginity he took. Fucking thief.  _

 

_ When Alfred came, he couldn’t feel the pleasure all too well. Sure, he probably had a nice face on while it happened, (Because Ludwig always loved to compliment him so), and he tensed up, but all it really felt like was him pissing his pants with something thicker, and beginning to grow soft. Even after, when Ludwig still kept on going, because he had the stamina of a Shire horse, Alfred didn’t feel all too sensitive.  _

 

_ Then the moment of Ludwig’s climax came. His lips were on his boy’s neck, sucking too hard, and his hands tightly wrapping around firm thighs. If any more pressure was applied to Alfred’s pelvis, it would probably break in some way. The man’s pleasure made its way from the tip of his still clothed penis, to the region around it, to his stomach, all the way up to his head, making him see different colors, and little sparks under his eyelids. In the opposite direction, the pleasure burned into his thighs, and it made his knees buckle, like he was a boy. His breathing was uneven, and he was shaking, violently. He could have sworn, in that moment, that he had never felt so much pleasure before.  _

 

_ Everything calmed down after that. Both men sagged in relaxation, and for a couple of minutes, they stayed there. Ludwig kept himself close to his Hirschkalb, hugging him with a soft grip, and Alfred let him. Both minds were blank, but for different reasons. _

 

_ \-- _

 

Ludwig finished the plate he made for himself, and saw that Alfred was still eating his food. The man noticed that his Hirschkalb was only relaxed, truly, when he was asleep, or when he was enjoying the meals made for him.  _ ‘At least I can please him in one way,’ _ Ludwig thought. The man still didn’t know what he did against Alfred to make the boy so angry.

 

Ludwig asked time and again what he could do for his boy, what he could do to obtain forgiveness. Most people gave that knowledge to him, but Alfred did not. It only made the man want to try harder, to have more eagerness to please and serve. Every time he asked, Alfred would  _ almost _ say something, and then go quiet. That was, in Ludwig’s opinion, the worst thing. And there was a hopelessness in the man’s heart, because maybe he broke his Puppe, and broken would mean he’d have to go to Family to try and fix it, they’d always refuse. Their blind eyes would even refuse Alfred, the perfectness he always will be. 

 

But then, hope once again flickered in Ludwig’s mind. Maybe this time, Alfred would tell him? Ludwig was nervous, so he stood and grabbed his plate to put it in the sink. Walking away, to the kitchen, he could feel Alfred’s eyes in his hair, his neck, his back, and then they looked away. The man didn’t bother washing the dish, it could be done later. Only if Family could see how lazy he’s become now, the thought almost made him chuckle.

 

The man looked back to his boy, to be met with eyes, blue. They quickly looked away in shame and fear, and Ludwig’s heart sank. He would still try though. Ludwig walked around the table, cautious, and eyes always locked on his boy. Alfred knew his captor was approaching, and he looked straight at his empty plate and glass, out of fear.

 

There was a moment of silence between the two of them, where Ludwig stopped walking and kept his respectful distance. The captor broke it, when he once again asked, “What can I do to make things  _ right _ ?” His tone was pleading, and tired. It was the first time Ludwig had ever shown his true emotional exhaustion to his Alfred, and for it, the man hoped for positive results. And he hoped that he wouldn’t corrupt his little Alfred in the meantime, because whenever he exposed himself to his past guests, they were always so afraid. 

 

Alfred looked at Ludwig, with an expression Ludwig was alien to, one he couldn't read. Again, there was a moment of silence between the two men, with Alfred having to think of what he had to say. This was an  _ opportunity _ . Even his mind, addled in fear and trauma and emotion, still saw it’s gleaming, bright light. The part of a black hole’s singularity that led to another dimension, full of potential. 

 

But he had to do this with tact. Every conversation, whether Alfred was too emotional to recognize it or not, was a chess game. He had his pawns to waste and his knights to savor, but he knew that it would be a tough round. Still, even with the logic he stored in his mind, emotion overwhelmed him. “I…” He was about to look away again, but Alfred decided to make himself have some courage. “Would you be willing to… get some books, and some food?” Ludwig was so excited that Alfred was actually talking to him,  _ asking  _ him of something, at that. 

 

“Alright, what genre? Do you have an author you like?” Ludwig was so excited by the possibility of forgiveness that he didn’t question why Alfred wanted books. He had a whole library in his basement, but… other things were down there, too. So maybe it was a better option to get books for Alfred, because the old ones were rotting away and dusty. Something as pure and new as Alfred wouldn’t want books in that condition.

 

Alfred thought for a little while. It was to get Ludwig out of the house, sure, but he’d still like something he’d enjoy reading. “Uhm… Books about science? Space? Psychology? And maybe… Stephen King?” Alfred felt confident in his choices, he’d be able to pass the time well with those types of books. When he ran out of material to consume, he could ask Ludwig for more. And if Ludwig was wealthy enough to get a china plate put back together with gold sealing, he’d be able to buy some books. 

 

Ludwig smiled at his boy, and to his surprise, his boy smiled back. It was small, a twitch of the lips, but it was better than nothing. The man felt his heart jump. “And the food, Puppe?” Alfred smiled more, amusement and trickery shining in his eyes, only for a moment. Again, Ludwig’s heart skipped a beat, electricity traveling out through his entire system.

 

“Anything you’d think I’d like. Thank you for this, Ludwig,” The man could break something, he was so happy. Insted, he gave his boy a wide smile, for a couple long seconds, and then started to gather his things. He went into his room with light footsteps, and changed into thicker clothes that could keep his body against the harsh cold. The man felt like he was floating, like he could drift away, becoming an army of red helium balloons. 

When Ludwig emerged from his room, his boy was on the bed, in a relaxed position, not having a care in the world. And right now, that was just how Ludwig wanted his boy to feel. After the toll his punishment put on his Hirschkalb, the man would imagine it’s time for some sweet happiness. Alfred looked at him, and smiled, and started to get up. 

 

Ludwig was confused. What was he going to do? Surely he wasn’t going to get attacked, his boy was so full of light, but,  _ (That’s what you thought about others. Sandra, Jonathan, all the others. Remember the one that stabbed you with a fork? Yes, you tried to tuck that memory away, with all the others, in a dark attic where the fluffy mice will eat them, and the chanting rats will eat the fluffy mice),  _ still, before he got any say in it, Ludwig found that he was being hugged. With arms awkwardly down at his sides, he rushed to return the embrace. Time seemed to warp for Ludwig, or maybe the man was so preoccupied with the acidic narrations in his head, that he didn’t notice the love given to him. 

 

The acidic voice was there no longer, that brief second in time gently washed away by Alfred’s kind hands. The boy’s embrace was soft for a male, and his hair smelled sweet. For a moment, Ludwig wanted to take all of his clothes off, and just relax with his little Puppe, skin bathing in the sunshine of the day, free. But, those dreams were for a different time, when he fully acquired his Süße’s affections and forgiveness. The man wanted Alfred’s love right at that moment, but he reminded himself that patience would give him greater rewards. 

 

Alfred pulled away, and looked up at his captor, and managed a smile. He knew that he would hug Ludwig, just for safe measures, and ramping himself up for it was nerve wracking, but the hugging itself wasn’t such a bad thing. And  _ that _ part scared Alfred the most, knowing that he took a small comfort in his captor’s embrace. Not because it was Ludwig, not my any means, but the physical touch of any human has always been able to calm Alfred. And knowing that he could be comforted by such a monster unsettled him. Looking into Ludwig’s eyes, Alfred gave a smile. 

 

“Books and food, correct? I can get that,” Ludwig went back into his room. Alfred’s heart sank when he saw the man return with rope. It was to be expected, and rationally Alfred knew it was going to happen, so he didn’t really know why he was disappointed. It didn’t stop him from obediently lying down on the bed and putting his hands into position, touching the headboard. Ludwig crouched in front of Alfred, stroking his boy’s cheek. With a quick motion, Ludwig turned the TV placed the wall opposite Alfred on, and switched to a football game. 

 

“I know. There will be a day when I can leave, and I’ll trust that you won’t try to go. We’re getting to that,” Ludwig’s tone was light and airy, still stunned from the succession of events that happened. He really did feel like a helium balloon. Alfred smiled at his captor, with understanding in his eyes. Ludwig kissed his boy’s forehead, before he gathered his wallet, his car keys, and he put on his coat. 

 

The fireplace, in it’s full use today, was no fight for the cold draft that came through the door to the mudroom when Ludwig opened it. Leaving it open, Alfred could see how the snow swirled around his captor when he fully left the house, as if he and the cold snow were one in the same. Alfred heard Ludwig call out, “I’ll be back in a little bit, Süße!” For a moment, with football announcements ringing in Alfred’s ears, the boy looked to where the china plate broke, it’s fateful spot on the floor. 

 

He looked back to the TV, and decided that he deserved some rest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I hope ya'll enjoyed that chapter! Remember to leave a kudos and a comment! And if you have any suggestions or typos, just tell me!


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ludwig goes to the bookstore for his boy. When he comes back home, he gets a sweet surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long guys! This is a MUCH longer chapter, and there are still some parts about it I'd like to tweak here and there, so I'm probably going to update it again soon. I hope you enjoy it! <3

His car, old but reliable, gave a good jerk when he let go of the breaks, and turned the key out of its ignition. The heating stopped working a long time ago, but the heated  _ seats _ worked just fine. Relaxed, but still focused, Ludwig let his thoughts run free for a minute or two while the seats cooled down. He was looking at a bookstore, its LED sign shining dim into the thick winter haze. 

 

He knew that he needed to hurry a little. Alfred’s food was right beside him, and in retrospect, Ludwig knew he probably should have bought the books first. Either way, he could rely on the extreme hot of the seat warmers to keep the food from getting too cold. His boy mentioned liking spicy food before, something Ludwig wasn’t particularly fond of. So, he went to a restaurant where he could smell the spice coming through it outside the door, and stepped through its entrance. He didn’t get the spiciest things for his Puppe, and some things not spicy at all, but he thought he did nicely.

 

Deciding that it would only get colder if he waited around, the man opened his car door and planted one foot outside. He then started to make his way towards the entrance of the book store, feeling its warmth leaking through the cracks in the glass doors. The man’s senses were heightened for this rare occasion- he didn’t go to many shops, except for when he was called by the wailing voice of necessity. Food, clothes when the ones at home got holes in them, but books were a rare thing in his house. Except for the good book, there wasn’t much else in his childhood. The ones stuffed in his basement were bible stories, amongst other things. 

 

He opened the door and stepped through it. Ludwig hoped fervently that no one would talk to him, and when he entered the store, warm air hitting his face, the scent of old carpet and fresh books hitting his nostrils, the man was filled with a pleasant feeling mixed with a foreign, uncomfortable one. If someone were to talk to him, he’d most likely revert back to his German out of fear.

 

_ ‘Uhm… Books about science? Space? Psychology? And maybe… Stephen King?’ _ Alfred’s sweet voice whispered its way through his ears, tickling the front of his head and bringing a sense of calm only certain people could produce, Alfred being one of them. Every pause and breath Alfred took in that sentence, and request, memorized. Every pronunciation, it was all imprinted in Ludwig’s head. He wouldn’t be able to tell a person what his father’s rages were actually about-he locked those memories in a safe and swallowed the key to forget them-but he did remember Alfred’s every word. Especially when it came to his request, because that meant redemption, forgiveness. It wasn’t something Ludwig was supposed to take lightly, so he didn’t. 

 

The man decided he should keep his lover’s voice on replay in his mind, it was the one thing that could soothe his nerves. And right now, they were more fired up then they have been in many years. And thankfully, the entire store had huge signs marking which genres were which, all caps  _ “FANTASY,”  _ and  _ “YOUNG ADULT,”  _ Being atrocious to look at, with their bright letters and flashy fonts. It almost gave the poor man a headache, but at least he knew where to go. 

 

Eventually, he first snuck his way to the Philosophy/Psychology sections. Even luckier for the man, the sections were paired, and nearby the science section, which would undoubtedly include things about space. Then, he could drift his way to the horror section, and when he could sneak to the cashier, pay for the books, and go. It was a fine plan, one that would work, but he hated being in this place all the same. The only reason why he grinned and bore it was for his boy. Looking for thicker books that could keep his Alfred entertained for longer, he chose books on Diogenes, Kierkegaard, books about depression too. It always seemed to Ludwig that his boy was sad, so books on beating sadness could very much be helpful. As for the philosophy books, he didn’t know what the names meant. There was a hot wave of shame that went through Ludwig, a need for more education and knowledge for his Alfred. 

 

But Ludwig’s embarrassment didn’t deter him from picking up the books Alfred requested. And even though everything else in the world was a worry for Ludwig, money wasn’t. The man could’ve bought a whole library for his lover, if the boy wanted it. The books of mind were done and over with, and as he made his way to the science section, as light as fog and invisible as air, the man picked out more books by authors he knew nothing about. Maybe Alfred could be his teacher, his source of knowledge for all things. Because even though Alfred was much younger than Ludwig, the boy must have spent all his life in the outside world, absorbing information like a sponge. 

 

Ludwig on the other hand, was raised with Family. A closed off bunch of people. Most of the time, he knew nothing. He was a vessel, empty, except for the fear of God and Brimstone. The man, once only a little boy, didn’t know whats stars were, or what came from the sky, in white little flakes. What the green hairs that grow on dirt were, or why a tiny something could fly, but he couldn’t. Now, he knew the names to most things, but why they were there or any explanation that could be given was not in his mind, and never was. His education was through the many guests that came through his house, and the man was proud to have learned much in the past couple years. Ludwig smiled fondly at memories. He was raised in the type of community that believed worms came from rain and dirt. 

 

The man decided that yes, he  _ would  _ learn from Alfred. But then, with a spike of fear that went up his spine, his father’s and sibling’s cold voiced all spoke together, meshed in one whole being,  _ ‘Remember what we said about Curiosity, Ludwig. Back then, all those weeks ago when you invited Alfred into your home, you said it to him. Curiosity never did you any good, boy,’  _ Ludwig, a man with many books stacked in his arms, stayed where he was for a couple of minutes after that. If anyone saw him, they might have thought he saw a ghost. Either way, when he resumed his book shopping, that tiny voice in his mind put him in his place for the time being. 

 

That curious little boy was slain once more. 

 

\--

 

_ The morning before Alfred requested Ludwig to fetch books, fireworks and dreams were going off behind the man’s eyes. He was asleep, his arms coiled around Alfred, sometimes tighter than snakes, sometimes loose. It depended on what dream was playing itself through Ludwig’s brain, like a VHS.  _

 

_ The dream playing out right now made Ludwig twitch in his sleep like a pet would, whining when they’re taken away from their mother and sold to a loving family. He dreamed about his house back in Germany. House, not home. Family moved out of it, and had the grace and kindness to take him along, when Ludwig was very young. Still, the man had the memory to look at a wall in his dream, and remember all the vacant space that hung on it. Sometimes, in the movies he would watch when he was an adult, on his own, committing a private sin that Family could not see, he would see that walls were decorated with pictures. Maps, flags, almost anything that Ludwig could imagine. But still, the man’s imagination was never strengthened as a child, and his curiosity dead. He couldn’t imagine much being on a wall.  _

 

_ But still. Everything that he could remember in Family’s original house, floorboards and pieces of furniture, every key on the lovely piano on which he learned, was a stark shade of red that hurt Ludwig’s eyes. It was the violent color of war and murder, and it scared the boy, (He was young in this dream. Very young), it made him feel like his stomach was rising and falling, like he was on a roller coaster, a muted sense of fear and passion and anger making the boy’s chest burn. He looked around, everything was red. His father, his brothers and sisters, all excluding Gilbert. Most of the time, Gil didn’t make an entrance in Ludwig’s dreams, and it gave the boy a sagging feeling of disappointment.  _

 

_ Ludwig had been in this dream before, and with a very small sense of knowing, the boy expected what to come. Beatings, searing pain all under the cross hung very high on the wall. The cross was red too. Nothing was untouched from this red disease, not even the wooden Jesus hung high- higher than anyone could ever reach, both physically and metaphorically- on the wall, above the window looking at the golden plains of his family’s wheat farm. It was the most beautiful when the wheat was in season, fields touched by Midas. And there was one lone tree in the middle. _

 

_ When red-hot hands would strike against his frail, malnourished body, he would pretend that he was Apollo, chasing Daphne across the golden fields touched by Midas, until she turned into the lush green tree Ludwig saw. The little boy of Ludwig’s dreams and memories always wondered how many Daphne’s it would take until he found his Psyche. His Persephone.  _

 

_ Of course, Greek Mythology was never incorporated with Ludwig’s house-bound curriculum. It was fire, brimstone, and loveless toil, with a little boy that had nothing to give  _ **_but_ ** _ love. He and Gil were the same, but Gil wasn’t in this dream. He was always gone.  _

 

_ Something different was going to happen in this dream, Ludwig could feel things like that before they actually happened. The door opened, and white, white snow came drifting in the household, calmly. The little boy looked out the window once again, and the golden fields turned to silver, white ones. The tree was in it’s sleeping death, bark turned such a dark shade of brown, it was almost black. Ludwig looked towards the open door, and expected to see his mother in her white gown, but instead, to his great surprise, confusion and happiness, he saw Alfred.  _

 

_ The man was made of snow. But when Ludwig escaped his strong father’s grip, he forgot about the red house, and all it’s loveless violence. He could feel the warmth coming from his boy. And slowly, his dream faded away, and the man himself woke up, with many more scars, but also with a pleasant night’s rest and an even better dream.  _

_ The man could feel his little Puppe, and he decided that his dreams could never hold a candle to the real boy in his arms. His little Alfred, the inverse Persephone. He nuzzled further into the warm crook of Alfred’s neck.  _

 

_ \-- _

 

By the time he got to the cash register, Ludwig had a whole pile of thick books. At least ten.  _ At least _ . The gruffy woman, old and tired, didn’t give any remarks. She just scanned the books and put them in a bag with startling efficiency on a slow winter day. The old crow didn’t even smile at him, gave an obligatory, “Thank you for your purchase,” And let him be on his way. And normally, any person would at least take slight offense, be huffy back, or be empathetic with the woman’s moods. For Ludwig, the interaction couldn’t have gone better. There was only a small population of people in the man’s mind of whom he could actually converse with them and be comfortable while doing it. One of those people, warm, breathing, was tied to the bed in the front room. He hurried out the store, got in his car, and drove agonizingly below the speed limit. Even with hundreds of dollars spent towards books, and a little more spent on still warm food, he could handle a speed ticket, but he didn’t like attention. The man was sure he’d have a panic attack on the spot if a policeman pulled him over. 

 

So, with that, Ludwig drove home. His knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so hard, and his forearms were slightly shaking. He didn’t know why that incident shook him to his core, but it did. Going outside and arriving at places other than the grocery store was an alien occurrence for the man. 

 

But he remembered that he was doing all of this for Alfred. There was a small part of him that was scared, because he didn’t really go out of his way for his other guest’s approval. But, love’s grips already crushed Ludwig’s ribs and got to his heart, and making him feel like an average teenager would. Instead, his emotional stunting during his childhood would have him feel these things starting in his mid thirties.

 

Dead trees, made softer by the strong grey sky, were passing by. Ludwig relaxed his grip when he thought of smelling Alfred’s hair. 

 

…

 

Alfred was weeping. It was the type of silent crying he was used to, his tears never made a sound. That habit, that  _ coward’s habit _ , made its debut when he had to share a room with Mattie, and all the world’s pain got to him. And even when it did, when water came out of his eyes and his heart truly ached like it wasn’t there, he didn’t want to let Mattie know. Either way, Mattie found out sooner or later. Late nights where his tears were only soothed by his brother, screaming parents and the scent of cigarettes, seemed like the fondest of memories now.  _ ‘Oh, Mattie. Why can’t I see you?’  _ More tears crept down Alfred’s face.  

 

He was too emotional to form an escape plan. But even if right now was his only opportunity to do so, Alfred had many escape plans lined up, all neat in a row, inside his head. And a defiant, spiteful little thought crossed Alfred’s mind, full of the freedom the man was lacking,  _ ‘Curiosity will get me out of here, you son of a bitch. Just fucking wait. You can’t look in my head, can you?’  _ Angry thoughts like those almost never made and entrance in Alfred’s mind, even before the abduction. Before Ludwig plucked him from the world, and tied the victim to a newer, smaller one. 

 

And during Alfred’s unwilling stay at Ludwig’s house, those rageful thoughts barely entered his mind. Most of them were full of fear, or sadness, or love for the family he took for granted. And as soon as that thought passed through his mind, it went, just as Alfred reminded himself that premature anger wasn’t going to do him any good. And that sickly sweet voice of reason angered him even further, and he shed more tears. 

 

The past few weeks, he lost count now, was hell for him, and Alfred was getting stir crazy. He wanted to get up, move around, breathe in the fresh air, and run for his life. He wanted the freedom, always tasting like liberation and happy tears.

 

He wiggled his feet around, and his toes. Curled his fingers before he straightened them out. He was getting antsy. And just as that anger came back, the locks on the doors began to twist and give, one by one. Eventually, the anticipation in Alfred led to the door being opened, and even though Alfred  _ knew _ that it was Ludwig, there was still a crushed hope that it was a police officer. Or Matthew. Hell, he’d even take his parents, at this low point.

 

But, it was Ludwig. And as soon as the food’s scent wafted through the room and hit Alfred’s nose, he didn’t feel so bad. At least he wouldn’t starve to death. The next thing that Alfred saw was the huge paper bag Ludwig was carrying, and he widened his eyes. He couldn’t tell how many books were in it, but by how it slightly weighed the man’s arms down, (Which usually didn’t happen, ever. The man was stronger than God himself), he would tell that there were a lot of them. 

 

“Hallo, Schatz. I hope I didn’t take too long,” Ludwig said, as he kicked off his shoes, and practically floated towards Alfred. There was a look of contentment on Ludwig’s face that made him seem like he was glowing. The man’s baritone voice was still ringing in Alfred’s ears. For a couple of moments, the boy’s mind was frozen, not knowing what to do or say. And then, there was a sagging feeling in his chest.  _ ‘He’s probably gonna expect somethin’ in return, isn’t he?’  _ Alfred thought. 

 

Either way, there was a bright side that the boy fully acknowledged. Good food, and lots of books to distract himself with. Alfred managed a small smile to Ludwig, tied down to the bed. And Ludwig smiled back, it wasn’t too often when he did. The boy’s voice was scratchy at first. “Not at all,” Alfred hoped that Ludwig didn’t see any signs of his crying. The tears  _ felt _ dry on his face. 

 

Ludwig set the food down on the front room table, and he set the books down near the bed. To his surprise, Alfred actually felt anticipation at what he got. The boy felt that it was the closest he’d get to Christmas in awhile. The large hands that violated him in many ways, (Hands he was too excited to flinch at), untied the knots at his ankles. And then, Ludwig took a couple strides to Alfred’s wrists. The only tinge of fear the boy felt was when he saw Ludwig almost on top of him, untying the knots which bound his hands. 

 

The man took a nervous step back from his boy. His heart was beating with pressure and weight, nervousness coiling in his stomach. He was happy to see his beautiful Schatz, but memories whispered through his mind. Him trying to please Family, and never really seeing a smile on their face, or their eyes light up. A part of the nervousness Ludwig felt was due to Alfred actually having a pleased expression on his face, and how alien it really was. The boy’s eyes shone brighter than any sun. And to a man that’s only ever seen rain and clouds, the sun was terrifying.  

 

The cold still touched Ludwig’s body. The house, warm enough as is, didn’t do the job. There was a deep tug of longing in the man’s stomach, traveling all throughout his body. A cold jolt ran up his spine and made him flinch, and he looked away. The man knew he couldn’t be thinking like that when he still needed his boy’s forgiveness. What drew his attention back was the crinkling of the book store’s bag. Immediately, Alfred looked up to him, as a guest would look up to a host, fearful if something they did was impolite. “Can I…?” Alfred trailed off. 

 

For a moment, Ludwig had to register what his Hirschkalb was saying. And with a sudden force, the man answered, “Oh, of course!” With a startled tone. And after that, Alfred dug into the bag. There was a spike of fear that went through Ludwig’s heart when he saw surprise on his boy’s face. 

 

“How could you afford all these books?” Alfred asked. Now, Alfred was certain that Ludwig would surely expect something in return for everything. There was a cold sinking in his gut, but there was also a tiny, saintly voice in his head, saying,  _ ‘Don’t think about later,’  _ And shortly after that, he took that voice’s commands. 

 

“Th...They weren’t  _ that _ expensive,” Ludwig replied sheepishly. And then, after he said that, there was a shift in the room. Everything was silent. Even the wind whistling against the house seemed to slow, and eventually stop for a few moments. There was so much silence it hurt Alfred’s ears and send Ludwig into another level of fear and anticipation. 

Alfred smiled, a tiny smile. One that was pure and unstaged. “Thank you,” He said. The smile was there for a few moments longer, before the by focused back on his books. Curiosity to Alfred’s reactions led Ludwig nearer than he ever would go with someone angry at him, and he still drew nearer. He wanted to know what Alfred liked, disliked. He wanted to know everything about his boy. 

 

The ambient noise riled up again, while the two were looking at the books Ludwig bought. Alfred was amused and delighted by many, and then intrigued by the rest. The man wasn’t surprised when his smart boy knew all the philosophers every book spoke about. Shame of himself and pride for his boy swelled in his chest unevenly. 

 

Alfred was also pleased with the food, and they ate across from each other on the table for a little bit. Surprisingly, it was a companionable silence between the two. The olive branch Ludwig offered not only seemed to work, but it also seemed to bring Alfred closer to the man. The boy felt that shift too. He was fearful of it, fearful of the small amount of trust he’s given his captor, but that small, commanding voice told him,  _ ‘Don’t think about later,’  _ And once again, Alfred obeyed. 

 

The boy finished the food Ludwig got him in minutes. Even though it was good, it wasn’t nearly as delightful as Ludwig’s cooking, and that was something he was surprised at. He didn’t even think of the fact that he liked his captors food, but he almost always liked food coming from other places, over homemade. Maybe it was just his parent’s shitty cooking that taught him like that.  

 

The companionable silence broke when Ludwig asked, “What book do you feel like reading first?” Alfred looked up at Ludwig. Not with fear, or anger. Just with acknowledgement. And to Ludwig, that was alien, but still extremely welcomed. In his mind, he had earned Alfred’s forgiveness, and even if not completely, at least the majority of it. 

 

Alfred thought for a moment, and said, “King. He’s always good to start with,” The last bite full of food that Ludwig delivered him, “And then maybe one of the books I don’t know nothin’ about. Seems like a good choice,” He finished. 

 

There was a nervousness in Ludwig’s gut, that he had been feeling much more often as of late, he had noticed. He had looked at the books in the bag, and he had felt the type of fear when he first saw breasts. It was a type of taboo that made him feel ashamed of himself. Ludwig looked down to his empty plate. His expression must have been showing on his face, for once. 

 

Alfred didn’t have the courage to comment on his captor’s apparent emotional state. He was too afraid of punishment, because it was obvious the man hated questions. Hated curiosity. And on a deep, low level of Alfred, that could have possibly been the hardest thing for him to mentally process about the whole situation he was in. He had been raised in a world full of curiosity, shining lights into dark places, and then dissecting whatever crawled out. Ludwig, however, seemed to be strange. The man had no light to find sanctuary in. It was more like he was in the dark, feeling creatures and ghosts he could not understand slither past him, while he stayed stagnant and waiting. 

 

There was a small light that shone in Alfred’s head.  _ ‘Maybe he wants that something I owe him now. God, Jesus,’  _ His thoughts were cut off. Ludwig took his plate and Alfred’s garbage. Even though nothing suspicious was going on, the boy kept his eyes in the straight line where Ludwig previously sat. 

 

“You can go on the bed now. And maybe… take a book you would like to read?” A faint voice came from the kitchen. It wasn’t Ludwig’s usually gruff of deep tone, it was quiet and surrounding, like fog. The sound swept past Alfred, and the boy did as he was told. 

 

Ludwig was finished in the kitchen, so he slowly made his way over to the bed where Alfred lay. There was a bigger sense of pride and bravery in the man, and he walked over to Alfred more casually than in days prior. 

 

That same sense of longing swept through Ludwig, and this time, he felt less ashamed of it. But, there was some form of self discipline in Ludwig that kept the man from fulfilling his wants. The man planned on tying Alfred’s feet, but not his hands. The boy deserved to read. When he was walking back, he picked a book at random and gave it to Alfred while he was tying his boy’s feet. 

 

The small, faint smile of genuine happiness that spread across Alfred’s face made Ludwig trop in his tracks. It made his heart stutter, his longing deepen, and it made him fall in love with his boy all over again. Even though Alfred was preoccupied and didn’t see it, Ludwig gave his own happy smile back. The man’s eyes sparkled in the cold winter dullness. By his boy’s side, he knelt down on his knees at the bed, like he would Family’s altar. Instead of fear, he felt the reverence that was  _ supposed _ to be there for his lord. But, instead, his family beating him didn't necessarily teach him the ways of love, or the actual teachings of Jesus. Instead, like most Christians, and especially the extreme ones, ignored the philosophies for their messiah. They instead opted for an iron-grip household. 

 

Alfred, however, was completely different. The love and kindness that was supposed to be there  _ was, _ and Ludwig wasn’t expecting anything like that at all. Worship ensued. 

 

The boy summoned all his courage. He twisted himself in Ludwig’s direction, knowing that the man was staring at him, like usual, and leaned forward. The kiss was quick and painful for the boy, but under the illusion of debt to be paid, it was done. It was supposed to be a quick peck, but Ludwig was quick to respond, and grabbed the back of Alfred’s neck while he started to slide himself on the bed. There was a small, bitter part of Alfred’s mind that knew this was going to happen. And the same cynical voice asked if there was some deeper, sleeping part of the boy that actually  _ wanted this _ . There was a burning sensation of fear, humiliation and denial playing in the boy’s chest. He was about to cry again, sharp emotional pain making its way through his body. 

 

Ludwig eventually situated himself over his Schatz while Alfred was having another internal battle. He put both of his hands on his boy’s lower checks, the junction between jaw and neck. Ludwig was the one to initiate the second kiss, and the longing he felt multiplied tenfold. He was shaking and frustrated at the clothes they were wearing.  _ ‘My beautiful boy, Puppe,’ _

 

Alfred’s initial reaction to shock was to numb himself. It was his usual go to for any bad situation, but right now everything was running through him. Frustration, panic, sadness, misery. His brain seemed like it was turning around in his skull, swishing painfully, and his thoughts were slowly leaking out of his ears until there were none left. Eventually, it was just pure emotion Alfred felt, raw and beating in his heart like a survival instinct. He thought of burgundy, but no other words came to his mind for a very long time. 

 

Ludwig was too busy kissing his boy to notice the small tears coming out of Alfred’s eyes. When they separated, he didn’t notice either. They both panted in each other’s faces, feeling the warmth of their breath in the already heated room. It was in that moment when Ludwig completely gave his heart to Alfred, the boy under him, looking up into his eyes. He gave his heart to the boy that still had his book in one hand, and was covering his clothed chest with the other. Ludwig’s worship was alongside arousal and adoration.

 

“Would you want to…?” Ludwig asked, shyly. He was almost sure his Hirschkalb would say no, or maybe not answer at all. 

 

And, surprising Ludwig even further, Alfred gave a simple, “Okay,” And looked to the wall at the bed’s side. The boy was still giving heavy breaths. All in the name of a debt that didn’t exist, and one Alfred never had to pay. 

 

Ludwig was stopped for a couple seconds, but when he processed the affirmation his boy gave him, spikes of arousal went down into his stomach and joy went up his spine. He thought of it as a wonderful sensation, while excitement made his heart pump. The man planned to take Alfred into his dark bedroom just like last time, and when he untied his boy’s feet, he picked Alfred up and walked in the direction of the bedroom. Alfred’s hands were instinctively wrapped around Ludwig’s neck. 

 

Ludwig went into his dark room, feeling creatures he was familiar with slide past his feet and ankles, gently pass his head and brush his neck. Alfred’s eyes immediately went to the window with light still seeping through the cracks of the curtains. 

 

At the foot of their mountain, the snow fell on the trees, and everything slept. 


End file.
